LIBRARY 
STATE  TEA  CHEWS  coM.eoe 

9ANTA    BARBARA.   CALIFORNIA 


AN  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION  TO 

SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


Courtesy  o£  Thornton  Oakley,  the  Artist 


THE  MILLS 


AN  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION  TO 

SOCIAL   ECONOMY 


nv 


BY 


F    STUART  CHAPIN,  Ph.D. 

ASSOCIATE     PROFESSOR     OF     SOCIOLOGY     AND     ECONOMICS     IN 

SMITH  COLLEGE;  AUTHOR  or  "AN  INTRODUCTION 

TO    THE    STUDY    OF    SOCIAL    EVOLUTION." 


"  Each  generation  must  write  its  own  history  of  past  events, 
in  order  to  interpret  them  in  terms  corresponding  to  its  needs. 
New  conditions  give  rise  to  new  problems,  and  these  to  new 
conceptions ;  and  when  we  turn  again  to  examine  the  past,  we 
put  to  it  questions  never  before  asked." 

EDWARD  VANDYKE  ROBINSON. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 
1917 


Copyright,  1917,  by 
THE  CENTURT  Co. 


HC 

25 


DEDICATED  TO 
THE  MEMORY  OF  MY  MOTHER 

FLORENCE  A.  CHAPIN 

WHOSE  INTELLIGENT  AND  SYMPATHETIC 
INTEREST  IN  ALL  THINGS  HUMAN  WAS 
THE  INSPIRATION  OF  MY  EARLIER  YEARS 


LIBRARY 

•TATE  TfACHtWS  COUUEQK 
SANTA  BARBARA.  CALIFORNI 


This  book  is  an  introductory  study  in  the  history  of  So- 
cial Economy.  It  treats  of  certain  experiences  in  the 
lives  of  the  people  in  Greek,  Roman,  Medieval  and  Mod- 
ern Times.  It  is  designed  for  the  use  of  the  beginning 
student  and  the  general  reader.  The  author 's  purpose 
is  not  to  write  a  complete  history  of  social  development 
or  a  detailed  account  of  the  evolution  of  industry.  The 
book  consists  merely  of  a  series  of  brief  essays  on  the  con- 
trasting types  of  industrial  organization  which  have  ex- 
isted at  different  historical  periods,  and  an  account  of 
the  private  and  public  efforts  made  to  relieve  the  poverty 
of  each  period.  In  this  respect  the  book  may  well  serve 
as  an  introduction  to  the  study  of  industrial  and  social 
history. 

Glancing  back  over  the  record  of  social  history,  one  is 
impressed  by  the  similarities  as  well  as  with  the  bold 
contrasts  presented  by  the  productive  systems  of  different 
ages.  Equally  striking  is  the  repetition  of  ancient  errors 
in  the  practice  of  charity  and  the  inevitable  social  rever- 
beration of  their  consequences.  History  is  said  to  repeat 
itself.  But  differences  in  natural  resources,  climate, 
racial  experience  and  national  psychology,  cause  history 
to  repeat  itself  only  inexactly. 

During  the  period  of  Greek  ascendency  and  while 
Roman  power  lasted,  we  find  that  agrarian  decline  was 
associated  with  essentially  similar  conditions:  the  con- 
solidation of  small,  peasant  holdings  into  great  estates, 


viii  PREFACE 

owned  by  capitalists  and  cultivated  by  slave  labor.  In 
Greece,  slavery  never  developed  into  the  highly  organ- 
ized industrial  system  that  it  became  in  Rome,  but  in  both 
periods  wasteful  slave  labor  did  much  to  exploit  the  primi- 
tive fertility  of  the  soil.  In  both  periods,  too,  cereal  pro- 
duction declined  because  the  large  slave-cultivated  estates 
were  devoted  to  pasturage  or  to  the  raising  of  luxuries. 
As  a  consequence,  the  food  supply  of  the  metropolis  be- 
came a  serious  problem.  Again,  in  both  periods  the  in- 
evitable competition  of  yeomen  farmers  with  slaves  de- 
moralized the  free,  rural  population,  and  helped  bring 
about  an  exodus  from  the  country  to  the  city.  Finally,  in 
both  periods  the  city  populace,  debased  by  the  existing 
practices  of  public  support  for  citizens,  lost  the  habit  of 
self-maintenance  and  degenerated  into  an  irresponsible 
rabble. 

The  study  of  English  economic  history  reveals  agrarian 
tendencies  in  some  respects  similar  to  those  of  antiquity. 
Enclosure  of  small  yeomen  holdings  into  large  capital- 
istic-owned estates  proceeded  during  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries,  and  was  accompanied  by  much  misery 
among  the  people.  Again,  in  the  eighteenth  and  nine- 
teenth centuries,  we  observe  a  marked  centralization  of 
agricultural  holding.  This  process,  so  disastrous  for 
ancient  nations,  has  been  attended  in  modern  times  by 
such  a  remarkable  expansion  of  manufacturing  activity 
that  the  labor  displaced  from  the  soil  has  been  rapidly 
absorbed,  and  the  collapse  of  national  economy  averted. 

Slavery,  a  basic  industrial  force  in  Greek  and  Roman 
times,  hindered  the  development  of  manufacturing  indus- 
try, stifling  free  competition  by  its  degraded  economic 
standards  and  its  wasteful  methods.  There  was  conse- 
quently a  tendency  in  antiquity,  culminating  in  the  Roman 


PREFACE  ix 

Empire,  for  national  consumption  to  exceed  production. 
Modern  nations  have  evaded  this  evil  by  transforming 
raw  materials  of  low  intrinsic  value  into  articles  of  great 
intrinsic  worth  through  manufacturing  processes.  The 
peoples  of  Greece  and  Borne  never  developed  any  large- 
scale  system  of  manufacture  like  that  of  the  great  in- 
dustrial nations  of  to-day,  because  slavery  was  a  constant 
obstacle. 

Manufacturing  industry  became  a  significant,  economic 
activity  during  the  later  Middle  Ages^  when  free  artisans 
organized  the  craft  gilds.  But  not  until  the  coming  of  the 
machine  and  non-human  motive  power  in  modern  times, 
did  manufacturing  industry  attain  a  scale  of  organization 
commensurate  with  the  vast  commercial  and  agricultural 
activities  of  mankind.  Indeed,  the  social  economy  of 
modern  nations  is  different  in  this  fundamental  respect 
from  that  of  ancient  nations,  for  modern  social  organiza- 
tion reflects  everywhere  the  influence  of  the  machine. 
Agriculture,  manufacturing  industry  and  communication 
have  been  revolutionized,  one  after  another,  by  the  intro- 
duction of  mechanical  devices  and  machine  power.  These 
revolutions  have  been  thoroughgoing  and  far-reaching 
No  intelligent  understanding  of  modern  social  economy,  in 
contrast  to  previous  economic  organization,  is  possible 
without  a  knowledge  of  these  three,  great,  social  revolu- 
tions of  modern  times.  Their  true  significance  once  un- 
derstood, however,  it  is  possible  to  form  an  intelligent 
opinion  upon  problems  of  the  contemporary  social  order. 

These  fundamental  differences  between  methods  of  pro- 
duction in  ancient,  medieval  and  modern  times  have  their 
counterpart  in  the  different  methods  of  relieving  poverty, 
and  in  essentially  different  attitudes  towards  poverty. 
Considering  the  limited  knowledge  and  the  primitive 


x  PREFACE 

methods  of  the  time,  the  poverty  of  Greece  and  Rome 
seems  irreparable.  This  poverty  was  interwoven 
through  the  very  texture  of  industrial  life.  With 
the  institution  of  slavery  economically  necessary  and 
morally  justified,  with  the  social  ideal  of  a  leisured  life 
free  from  manual  toil,  it  was  hardly  possible  to  develop 
the  modern  ideal  of  economic  independence  for  every  one 
through  personal  and  productive  labor.  Consequently, 
dependence  involved  no  stigma;  if  it  was  not  actually 
praiseworthy,  it  was  at  least  quite  regular,  and  no  one 
thought  of  alleviating  or  preventing  poverty  by  construc- 
tive and  rehabilitative  methods. 

In  contrast  to  this  rather  hopeless  condition  of  affairs, 
we  believe  that  the  poverty  of  to-day  is  a  by-product  of 
our  industrial  system,  and  not  a  necessary  element  in  it. 
We  do  not  believe  with  the  ancients  that  "the  poor  we 
have  always  with  us."  By  far  the  larger  part  of  the 
poverty  of  the  present  is  a  product  of  social  maladjust- 
ment, an  incident  in  an  industrial  awakening  and  a  manu- 
facturing growth  that  has  been  more  rapid  than  adapta- 
tion in  methods  of  distributing  wealth  and  sharing  the 
costs  of  progress.  A  passing  of  the  emphasis  from  the 
ancient  alleviative  to  modern  preventive  and  constructive 
methods  of  dealing  with  poverty  exemplifies  a  funda- 
mental reversal  in  point  of  view. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  for  the  author  to  be  a  spe- 
cialist in  all  the  fields  covered  by  this  book.  Conse- 
quently, he  must  ask  the  indulgence  of  those  who  have 
special  knowledge  for  any  errors  of  fact  or  mistakes  that 
may  have  arisen  through  references  to  other  historical 
authorities — errors  which  have  escaped  his  diligent  effort 
at  accurate  presentation. 

In  preparing  the  manuscript  of  this  book,  the  author 


PREFACE  xi 

was  encouraged  by  the  helpful  suggestions  and  criticisms 
of  Professor  Edward  A.  Boss,  whose  aid  is  hereby  grate- 
fully acknowledged. 

The  author  desires  to  acknowledge  his  indebtedness  to 
A.  E.  Zimmern's  The  Greek  Commonwealth,  William  Cun- 
ningham's Essays  on  Western  Civilization,  and  John  K. 
Ingram 's  History  of  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  in  writing 
Part  I  of  this  book;  to  A.  H.  J.  Greenidge's  History  of 
Rome,  G.  Ferrero's  Greatness  and  Decline  of  Rome,  and 
Ingram 's  History  of  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  in  writing  Part 
II;  and  to  William  Cunningham's  Growth  of  English  In- 
dustry and  Commerce,  H.  de  B.  Gibbins'  Industry  in  Eng- 
land, and  W.  J.  Ashley's  An  Introduction  to  English  Econ- 
omic History  and  Theory  in  writing  Parts  III,  IV  and  V. 

In  reading  the  proof  of  the  manuscript  the  author  was 
aided  by  his  wife,  his  father  and  by  Miss  Charlotte  B. 
Peck,  all  of  whom  deserve  his  most  grateful  thanks  for 
their  assistance. 

F.  STUART  CHAPIN. 
Northampton,  Massachusetts,  May,  1917. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

PART  I.— THE    GREEK   PERIOD 1-40 

^ CHAPTER 

I    THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE 3-11 


Food  Resources 

War  and  Colonization 


II     SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE     ....  12-  25 

Money  Economy  and   Social  Relations 13 

Food,  Money,  and  Debt 15 

Slavery  in  Greece 17 

Imported    Grain 21 

Social  Unrest  and  the  Class  Struggle 22 

The   Social    Reformers 23 

III  INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 26-  40 

The   Ceramic   Factory 28 

The  Organization  of  Labor 29 

Charity  and  Social  Economy 32 

The  Seeds   of   Decline 38 

PART  II.—  THE  ROMAN  PERIOD 41-112 

IV  THE  LAND  AND  MILITARISM 43-  47 

The  Common  Cause  and  Federation 45 

Militarism   and   Agriculture 46 

V    THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE .      .      .  48-  60 

Debt-slavery  and  Social  Revolution 49 

The  Writing  of  the  Laws 51 

Public  Land  and  Agrarian  Reforms 54 

Exploitation  of  the  Provinces 55 

The  Growth  of  Plutocracy 56 

Demoralization  of  the  Yeoman  Farmers 59 

VI    AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  CITY     .  61-88 

Agrarian  Reform  of  Tiberius  Gracchus 62 

Social  Legislation  of  Gaius  Gracchus 69 

The  Corn  Law  of  Gaius  Gracchus 70 

Constructive  Measures 73 

The  Gracchian  Reforms  in  Perspective 77 

Public  Relief  in  Rome 80 

Private  Charity  and  Benevolence 84 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VII    THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY 89-104 

Treatment    of    Slaves 92 

The  Decline  of  the  Slave  System     ........  94 

Serfdom 96 

The  Recrudescence  of  Slavery  in  the  New  World  .      .  101 

VIII    THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOB 105-112 

Ancient  and  Modern  Organizations  of  Labor      .      .      .  106 

The  Obstacles   to   Industrial   Progress  110 


PART  III.— INDUSTRIAL  DEVELOPMENT  AT  THE  END  OF 

THE  MIDDLE  AGES 113-143 

IX    COMMERCE  AND  THE  TOWNS 115-119 

The  Crusades 116 

The  Gild  Merchant .  118 

X    HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY  AND  THE  CRAFT  GILDS  ....  120-128 

The    Handicraft    System 120 

Internal   Organization  of  the  Craft-Gilds      .      .      ...  123 

Activities   of   the   Craft-Gilds 126 

XI    THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CRAFT-GILDS 129-137 

Internal    Demoralization 131 

External   Influences 135 

XII    THE  RISE  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  SYSTEM 138-143 

The  Spread  of  Industry  to  the  Country 138 

The  Spread  of  Woolen  Manufacture 141 

PART    IV.—  GREAT    SOCIAL    REVOLUTIONS    OF    MODERN 

TIMES 145-260 

XIII    INTRODUCTORY 147-149 

XIV    THE    AGRICULTURAL    REVOLUTION 150-169 

Sheep-Raising  and  Enclosures  for  Pasturage      ...  152 

Improvements   in   Agriculture 157 

The  New  Period  of  Enclosures  and  the  Agrarian  Revo- 
lution             ..'>....  159 

The  Decay  of  the  Yeomanry 161 

Agricultural    Machinery 165 

XV    THE   INDUSTRIAL   REVOLUTION 170-214 

The  Inadequacy  of  Domestic  Manufacture     ....  172 

Mechanical  Inventions  and  Machine  Power     ....  174 

The    Factory    System 177 

Social  and  Economic  Effects  of  the  Factory  System     .  182 

Factory  Legislation 208 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVI    THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION 215-260 

The  Great  Inventions  in  Communication 218 

The  Expressiveness  of  the  New  Communication       .      .  223 

Swiftness  in  Overcoming  Space 234 

The  Diffusion  of  Intelligence 237 

Permanence  of  Record;  the  Overcoming  of  Time     .      .  245 

Social  Effects  of  the  New  Communication  247 


PART  V.  THE  TRANSITION  FROM  REMEDIAL  TO  CON- 
STRUCTIVE CHARITY  AND  PREVENTIVE 
PHILANTHROPY 261-304 

XVII    MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  AND  THE  ENGLISH  POOR  LAW  .     .     .  263-279 

Medieval    Charity 264 

The  Period  of  Repression 269 

The  Poor-Law  of  Elizabeth 271 

The  Reform  of  the  Poor-Law 273 

XVIII     CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  AND   PREVENTIVE  PHILANTHROPY  280-304 

The  Hamburg-Elberfeld  System  of  Poor  Relief  ...  281 

The  Charity  Organization  Society 286 

Social  Insurance 291 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  .     , 305-310 

INDEX  •      •      •  311-316 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

The   Mills Frontispiece 

1  The   Acropolis 35 

2  The    Colosseum 85 

3  A  blast  furnace  of  the  Middle  Ages 123 

4  A  loom  of  the  sixteenth  century 139 

5  An  old  Saxon  plow — A.  D.  1000 151 

6  A  Colonial  plow 153 

7  A  steam  plow  at  work 157 

8  Plowing  by  automobile  tractor 160 

9  Gasoline  motor  plow 163 

10  Disking  and  harrowing  by  steam 167 

11  Watts'  steam  engine    .     ^* 178 

12  A  modern  blast  furnaca- 180 

13  Tapping  an  open-hearth  furnace 183 

14  Interior  of  a  rail  mill 186 

15  Han  Yang  iron  and  steel  works:  an  industrial  center  of  China       .  189 

16  Assembling    department    of    Ford    Motor    Company:    putting    on 

wheels,  gas  tank  and  muffler 193 

17  Assembling  department  of  Ford  Motor  Company:  putting  on  dash 

and   fenders 197 

18  Diagram  illustrating  how  labor  has  lost  control  of  one  step  after 

another  in  the  evolution  of  modern  industry 201 

19  A  comparison  of  complex  modern  corporate  organization  of  indus- 

try with  the  simple  handicraft  organization 203 

20  The  development  of  the  locomotive  (by  F.  B.  Masters)    .      .      .      .217 

21  The  largest  locomotive 219 

22  Modern  types  of  locomotives  (by  F.  B.  Masters) 222 

23  Comparison  of  the  Mauretania  and  Cleremont 225 

24  Evolution  of  the  submarine:  the  turtle  of  David  Bushnell  .      .      .   228 

25  Evolution  of  the  submarine:  the  Nautilus  of  Robert  Fulton      .      .   229 

26  Evolution  of  the  submarine:  submarine  on  the  surface  ....   231 

27  Zeppelin  over  a  German  city 235 

28  Wilbur  Wright's  first  aeroplane  trip  over  water  by  the  Statue  of 

Liberty 240 

29  Morse's  telegraph  instrument 243 

30  Telegraphing  a  thousand  words  a  minute 245 

31  Wireless  station  at  Cape  Cod 248 

32  Telephone  central  exchange 250 

33  Representation  of  spirit  forms  by  movies 253 

34  Motion-pictures  of  the  stomach  digesting  food 255 

35  Representation  of  "Twenty  Thousand  Leagues  Under  the  Sea"  by 

Movies       ....  258 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

PART  I.    THE  GREEK  PERIOD 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE 

GREECE  is  located  at  the  threshold  of  the  Orient, 
readily  accessible  from  Asia  Minor  and  Egypt.  Because 
of  this  focal  location  in  the  ancient  world,  Greece  became 
the  intellectual  clearing-house  for  the  eastern  Mediter- 
ranean. The  general  information  gathered  here  af- 
forded material  for  wide  comparison,  and  established 
conditions  under  which  national  growth  became  ordered 
and  varied.  It  was  a  frontier  region  of  the  ancient 
world,  where  marauders,  outlaws,  refugees,  and  enter- 
prising men  from  all  peoples  had  mingled  for  hundreds 
of  years,  producing  a  hardy  and  fearless  stock. 

The  shore  formation  is  irregular  and  broken  into 
many  sheltered  harbors  and  natural  hiding  places.  In- 
deed, Greece  is  said  to  have  the  longest  shore-line  of  any 
area  of  its  size  in  the  world.  Four  hundred  and  eighty- 
three  islands  extend  in  an  unbroken  series  to  the  shore 
of  Asia  Minor.  In  early  times  these  " stepping  stones" 
to  the  East  admitted  the  bold  native  inhabitants  to  wider 
maritime  enterprise.  On  the  east,  the  coast  of  Asia 
Minor  bordering  the  .ZEgean  abounds  in  small,  fertile 
plains,  and  is  as  well  supplied  with  harbors  as  is  the 
opposite  shore  of  Greece..  Thus  the  JEgean  does  not 
separate  the  two  coasts,  but  unites  them  in  such  a  fash- 

3 


4  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ion  that  the  smallest  vessels  may  pass  across  without 
losing  sight  of  land. 

The  sense  of  security  suggested  by  this  advantageous 
shore  formation  is  supplemented  by  the  mild  scenery  of 
the  mainland.  The  mountains  are  not  lofty  enough  to  be 
awe-inspiring,  but  are  suggestive  and  appealing  in  their 
beauty.  In  general,  the  aspects  of  nature  are  on  a  small 
scale,  comprehensible,  on  the  measure  of  man  himself. 

Zimmern  says:  "The  Mediterranean  landscape,  like 
the  institutions  of  the  city  state,  forms  a  permanent 
background  to  Greek  life  and  thought.  Its  influence  is 
omnipresent,  but  it  is  seldom  expressed.  It  is  left  to 
show  itself,  more  spontaneously  and  truthfully,  in  the 
chance  idiom  or  detail  that  slips  out  as  the  setting  of  a 
story;  in  what  is  implied  or  hinted,  rather  than  con- 
sciously stated;  in  the  many  little  significant  touches 
which,  to  the  careful  observer  of  nations  as  of  men,  are 
always  the  surest  and  happiest  revelation  of  char- 
acter. ' ' 1 

From  Thrace  to  the  southern  part  of  the  Peloponnesus, 
the  short  valleys  opening  out  to  the  east  contain  small 
streams,  usually  dry  in  summer.  Winter  converts  them 
into  roaring  torrents.  The  entire  country  is  so  diminu- 
tive that,  from  almost  any  point  inland,  it  is  but  one 
day's  travel  to  the  sea.  The  greatest  length  of  the  penin- 
sula is  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles;  its  greatest 
breadth  is  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles ;  its  area 
is  about  equal  to  the  State  of  Maine.  Short  valleys,  with 
their  small  streams  and  little,  alluvial  plains  at  the  mouth, 
are  separated  from  one  another  by  rough,  mountain 
masses,  strewn  with  immense  boulders.  The  broken  re- 
lief of  the  country  discourages  travel  from  one  valley  to 

i  Zimmern,  A.  E. — The  Greek  Commonwealth,  Oxford,  1911,  p.  16. 


THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE  5 

another  and  interferes  with  intercourse  between  neighbor- 
ing valley  communities.  Thus,  natural  conditions  iso- 
lated the  primitive  inhabitants  from  their  neighbors,  and 
favored  the  growth  of  small  city  states  in  the  separated 
valley  communities.  In  these  diminutive  local  groups, 
the  people  were  so  near  to  their  leaders  that  no  single 
chief  could,  for  any  length  of  time,  attain  the  dominat- 
ing power  of  an  oppressive  tyrant,  and  so  natural  condi- 
tions favored  the  growth  of  a  democratic  spirit.  The 
relief  of  the  country  made  the  early  inhabitants  moun- 
taineers. Scant  living  could  be  made  for  a  small  family 
group  by  the  varied  occupations  of  hunting,  keeping  stock, 
and  small-scale  tillage.  The  slightly  remote  valleys  gave 
natural  protective  barriers,  so  that  governmental  pro- 
tection was  not  essential. 

FOOD   KESOURCES 

Although  Greece  lies  in  a  border  region  between  the 
semi-tropical  climate  and  the  temperate,  its  soil  is  not 
fertile.  In  general,  the  surface  of  the  Greek  peninsula 
may  be  divided  into  four  divisions:  the  unproductive 
area,  the  forest  area,  the  pasture  area,  and  the  cultivable 
area.  At  the  present  time,  the  unproductive  area  in- 
cludes about  one  third  of  the  entire  country.  This  area 
consists  mainly  of  bare  rocks  and  eroded  sections.  Since 
the  soil  was  so  scanty,  any  considerable  devastation,  such 
as  resulted,  for  example,  during  the  Peloponnesian  War, 
was  a  most  serious  catastrophe,  and  recovery  was  diffi- 
cult if  not  impossible.2 

In  early  times  the  area  of  Greece  under  forest  cover 
was  much  larger  than  at  present.  But  for  hundreds  of 
years  the  trees  have  been  destroyed  wastefully,  so  that 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  40,  42. 


6  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

at  this  time  in  eastern  Greece  few  forests  remain,  al- 
though the  northwestern  section  is  still  well  wooded. 
In  the  vicinity  of  Athens,  the  forest  furnished  fuel  but 
not  timber  for  naval  stores.  Since  the  soil  of  Greece  was 
incapable  of  producing  a  great  forest,  the  early  inhabit- 
ants of  the  country  had  to  go  outside  in  search  of  large 
lumber  for  their  ships.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  so-called 
forests  of  Greece  really  consist  of  bushes,  and  not  of  tall, 
standing  timber. 

The  pasture  land  of  Greece  is  that  area  which  is  too 
poor  to  be  sown  or  cultivated.  It  forms  the  borderland 
on  mountain  slopes,  below  the  forest  belt.  There  are 
few  cows  because  the  land  is  so  poor,  but  sheep  and  goats 
find  sustenance  where  cattle  cannot  exist.  The  animals 
are  lean  and  thin  because  they  have  to  climb  high  and 
far  in  search  of  food.  In  antiquity  Greece  was  a  land 
of  goats'  milk  and  honey.  The  honey  was  an  important 
staple  food.  It  was  not  necessarily  a  luxury,  but  was 
used  for  all  sorts  of  purposes  for  which  we  use  sugar. 

Except  for  the  forest  belt,  the  land  which  admits  of 
cultivation  is  the  smallest  in  area  of  the  four  divisions 
of  the  country.  This  cultivable  land  is  found  in  plains 
and  levels,  flanked  by  rough  mountain  masses.  These 
plains,  watered  by  streams  from  the  slopes  of  mountains, 
comprise  the  arable  land  of  Greece.  They  form  small 
compartments,  readily  protected  against  a  hostile  foe.3 
Some  plains  are  shut  in  by  mountains,  like  the  plain  of 
Sparta;  others  end  in  the  sea.  Greek  rivers  are  brown 
and  muddy  from  the  sediment  which  they  carry  and  build 
up  deltas  of  silt  at  their  mouths.  Since  the  Mediter- 
ranean is  a  tideless  sea,  this  rich,  alluvial  soil  is  never 
washed  away,  and  favors  agricultural  industry.  These 

s  Ibid.,  p.  45. 


THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE  7 

natural  conditions,  which  directly  protected  the  small, 
fertile  areas  by  rough  mountains,  indirectly  favored  the 
development  of  Greek  institutions  and  Greek  patriotism. 

The  products  of  the  soil  were  corn,  wine,  and  oil. 
Wheat  or  barley  formed  the  staple  food.  The  Greeks 
prepared  their  flour  in  many  different  ways,  making 
wheat-bread  and  unbaked  barley  cakes.  They  ate  two 
meals  a  day  and  seldom  partook  of  meat,  except  at  festive 
occasions.  The  corn  was  sown  in  October  and  harvested 
in  May  and  June.  Each  little  bit  of  fertile  land  was 
sown,  for  every  Greek  city  tried  to  grow  its  own  corn.4 

Wine  was  the  national  drink  from  the  earliest  times. 
But,  since  the  Greeks  drank  wine  usually  in  proportions 
of  three  parts  water  to  two  of  wine,  they  were  not  a  hard 
drinking  people.  Olive  oil  was-  an  important  product. 
It  was  used  to  make  butter  and  soap,  and  served  as  fuel 
for  lamps.  The  olives  were  squeezed  in  presses  several 
times.  From  the  first  squeezing,  the  eating  oil  was  ob- 
tained ;  from  the  second,  the  anointing  oil ;  from  the  third, 
the  illuminating  oil;  the  remainder  was  used  as  fuel. 
Since  the  olive  groves  were  orchards  which  allowed  forty 
feet  between  each  tree  and  sixty  feet  between  the  rows, 
there  was  plenty  of  room  to  plant  corn  under  the  trees. 
The  olive  tree  was  not  a  difficult  plant  to  cultivate,  for,  as 
Virgil  tells  us,  all  it  needs  is  a  little  digging  around  the 
roots.  The  harvest  began  in  the  late  autumn,  and  the 
olives  were  picked  with  considerable  care.  An  important 
factor  in  olive  growing  was  the  long  period  which  elapsed 
before  the  trees  reached  maturity.  It  was  sixteen  or 
eighteen  years  before  they  bore  a  full  crop,  and  from 
forty  to  sixty  years  before  they  reached  their  prime. 
Consequently,  devastation  of  the  olive  country  meant  not 

*IUd.,  p.  46. 


8  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

merely  the  destruction  of  a  year's  income,  but  the  de- 
struction of  a  considerable  amount  of  capital  as  well. 

The  ancient  Greeks  considered  agriculture  the  most 
desirable  form  of  livelihood.  From  primitive  times  down 
to  the  fifth  century,  the  population  had  to  live  off  the 
land.  Among  the  early  Greeks,  since  there  was  no  trade 
or  commerce,  the  chief  means  of  support  was  agriculture. 
The  Greek  writers,  Zenephon,  Plato,  and  Aristotle,  all 
eulogize  the  life  of  the  farmer.  Being  by  tradition 
shepherds  and  farmers,  the  Greek  middle-classes  were 
conservative.  They  did  not  live  with  a  view  to  becoming 
rich,  and  did  not  consider  whether  prices  were  high  or 
not.  The  object  of  life  was  to  provide  the  necessities  for 
household  needs  and  to  serve  as  a  responsible  citizen  in 
the  home  community.  When  a  Greek  citizen  owned  a 
large  amount  of  land,  the  community  often  clamored  for 
a  redistribution  of  land.  In  the  time  of  Pericles,  it  is 
probable  that  one  third  of  the  corn  consumed  in  Attica 
was  grown  on  local  farms.  The  great  majority  of  the 
land  holdings  were  cultivated  by  free  peasants.  They 
and  their  whole  household  worked  upon  the  land,  their 
sons  receiving  shares  of  the  estate  upon  the  death  of  the 
father.  In  403  B.C.,  a  proposition  was  made  in  Athens 
which  would  limit  citizenship  to  the  owners  of  lands 
or  houses.  Although  Athens  was  the  chief  commercial 
city,  there  were  only  five  thousand  citizens  who  would 
have  been  excluded  by  this  law — an  indication  of  the  prev- 
alence of  landholding  among  the  middle-classes.5 

WAE  AND   COLONIZATION 

As  population  increased,  the  scanty  soil  of  Greece  be- 
came inadequate  for  support.  About  the  eighth  and 

s  Ibid.,  pp.  223,  228. 


THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE  9 

seventh  centuries  B.C.,  the  point  had  been  reached  at 
which  the  law  of  diminishing  returns  in  agriculture  began 
to  supplant  increasing  returns. 

Whenever  there  was  crop  failure  or  lack  of  rainfall,  the 
state  was  face  to  face  with  famine.  When  population 
presses  upon  the  means  of  subsistence,  there  are  but  two 
immediate  alternatives :  to  limit  population  or  to  increase 
food.  The  state  must  emigrate  excess  population,  or  im- 
port food.  Thucydides  has  accepted  the  principle  that 
overpopulated  communities  must  go  to  war  in.  order  to 
obtain  the  necessary  land  for  food  purposes.  Indeed,  the 
chief  object  of  early  Greek  warfare  was  to  secure  land 
and  supplies.  Fertile  sections  were  occupied,  and  the 
existing  population  was  driven  off  or  forced  to  pay  trib- 
ute. It  was  customary  to  make  raids  by  land,  across  the 
borders  of  neighboring  prosperous  sections,  and  carry  off 
the  needed  supplies.  Thus  war  was  really  state-robbery, 
and  became  an  established  policy  of  the  city-state.6 
Herodotus  and  other  ancient  authors  have  given  us  de- 
scriptions of  this  warfare  to  procure  the  food  that  was  so 
badly  needed. 

While  war  was  the  most  direct  and  immediate  method 
of  securing  the  needed  supplies,  emigration  of  the  surplus 
population  was  more  difficult  and  less  satisfactory.  The 
need  of  food,  therefore,  stimulated  policies  of  colonization 
to  secure  an  outlet  for  excessive  population.  Great  ex- 
peditions set  out  from  the  sheltered  harbors  of  Greece 
to  settle  in  Asia  Minor,  Italy,  Sicily,  and  Marseilles.  But 
Greek  colonies  were  not  established  as  the  private  ven- 
tures of  enterprising  merchants  or  associations.  They 
were  part  of  a  carefully  organized  scheme  of  state- 
promoted  emigration.7  While  other  ancient  colonies 

«Ibid.,  pp.  239,  242.  7  Ibid.,  p.  247. 


10  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

were  frequently  trading  centers,  the  Greek  colony  was 
an  agricultural  community,  patterned  after  the  cities  of 
the  homeland.  Zimmern  says  that  it  was  only  through 
chance  that  the  later  development  of  some  of  the  colonies 
was  in  the  direction  of  commerce.  The  colonists  carried 
with  them  the  old  agricultural  tradition.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  were  largely  deposed  cultivators  who  at 
home  had  been  crying  out  for  land.  Eegulations  govern- 
ing the  establishment  of  the  Athenian  colony  in  Thrace 
show  that  ten  land-distributers  were  chosen,  one  from 
each  tribe.  The  first  occupSnts  of  the  new  territory  were 
to  build  a  fortified  inclosure.  Each  man  received  a  site 
for  his  house  within  the  fortification,  and  three  quarters 
of  an  acre  of  land  outside  the  city.8  The  Greeks  took 
great  pains  to  select  a  favorable  site  for  their  colonies, 
and  consulted  the  oracle  of  Delphi.  Some  of  these  colon- 
ial settlements  grew  into  regular  trading  centers  for  ex- 
change of  wares.  By  means  of  their  colonies  in  the  East, 
the  Greeks  were  able  to  establish  connections  with  the 
commercial  routes  from  Persia  and  the  Caspian,  and  even 
with  the  river  routes  to  the  North,  whence  fur  and  amber 
came. 

Communication  with  these  different  peoples  and  ex- 
change of  wares  had  a  broadening  influence  upon  the 
Greeks.  They  became  acquainted  with  new  and  different 
customs  and  encountered  strange  institutions.  The  pop- 
ulation of  the  Greek  cities  became  cosmopolitan,  for  for- 
eign traders  came  from  their  colonial  settlements.  Ath- 
ens, indeed,  had  quite  a  large  element  of  permanent  for- 
eign residents,  known  as  "metics."  At  one  time  they 
numbered  about  ten  thousand  and,  with  their  families, 
must  have  comprised  fully  fifty  thousand  people.  The 

s  Hid.,  pp.  247,  248. 


THE  LAND  AND  THE  PEOPLE      11 

metics  paid  a  tax  of  twelve  drachmas  a  year  for  the  priv- 
ilege of  trading  in  Athens  under  the  protection  of  the 
state.  A  drachma  is  eighteen  cents  in  our  coinage,  but 
its  purchasing  power  is  much  greater. 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  commercial  activities  of  the  Greeks  brought  about 
the  introduction  of  a  money  economy.  Aristotle  remarks 
that  "as  the  benefits  of  commerce  were  more  widely  ex- 
tended .  .  .  the  use  of  a  currency  was  an  indispensable 
device.  As  the  necessaries  of  nature  were  not  all  easily 
portable,  people  agreed,  for  purposes  of  barter,  mutually 
to  give  and  receive  some  article  which,  while  it  was  itself 
a  commodity,  was  practically  easy  to  handle  in  the  busi- 
ness of  life.  Some  such  article,  as  iron  or  silver,  was  at 
first  denned  simply  by  size  and  weight,  although  finally 
they  went  further,  and  set  a  stamp  upon  every  coin  to 
relieve  them  from  the  trouble  of  weighing  it  ...  " 1 
From  early  times,  barter  had  existed  in  the  JEgean,  and 
eventually  certain  articles  were  exchanged  so  often  that 
they  became  a  sort  of  commodity-money.  We  find  the 
slave-unit  and  the  ox-unit.  But  the  disadvantage  of  these 
mediums  of  exchange  was  that  slaves  and  oxen  vary  in- 
dividually, and  it  is  difficult  to  define  the  unit  of  value. 
The  superior  convenience  of  metallic  money  inevitably 
asserted  itself,  for  equal  weights  and  quality  of  metal 
can  be  easily  established.  Coined  money  seems  to  have 
been  introduced  about  700  B.C.  With  the  establishment 
of  a  money  economy  came  consequences  of  far-reaching 

i  Politics,  bk.  1,  ch.  ix,  Welldon. 

12 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  13 

importance  which  the  English  economist,  William  Cun- 
ningham, has  outlined.2 

MONEY  ECONOMY  AND  SOCIAL  RELATIONS 

The  intervention  of  money  made  relations  of  persons 
and  the  exchange  of  things  clearer  and  much  more  or- 
derly. In  a  natural  economy,  men  were  bound  to  one 
another  by  customary  ties.  Mutual  obligations  were  dis- 
charged in  service  or  in  kind ;  consequently  it  was  difficult 
to  distinguish  the  physical  transfer  of  goods  by  gift-mak- 
ing and  tribute  from  exchange  of  goods  by  commerce. 
Again,  it  was  impossible  to  determine  whether  the  serf 
pays  rental  for  his  small  holding  of  land  in  the  form 
of  service,  or  whether  he  received  wages  in  the  use  of 
his  land.  In  a  natural  economy,  these  concepts  were  not 
distinct.  But  in  a  money  economy,  gift-giving  and  com- 
merce, wages  and  rent,  were  easily  distinguished,  and,  to 
this  extent,  economic  thinking  was  clearer  and  more  log- 
ical. 

The  introduction  of  a  money  economy  made  for  free- 
dom of  individual  action,  in  addition  to  facilitating  clear 
thinking.  While  the  slave  or  the  serf  did  his  labor  under 
compulsion,  the  free  man  worked  for  the  sake  of  reward.3 
The  laborer  enjoyed  greater  independence  when  his  re- 
ward was  paid  in  money.  Under  these  circumstances, 
he  decided  for  himself  whether  he  would  work  much  for 
a  larger  reward,  or  whether  he  desired  to  have  more 
leisure  and  a  smaller  return.  In  a  natural  economy,  pay- 
ment was  made  in  shelter  or  rations,  and  consequently 
the  workmen's  expenditure  and  place  of  habitation  were 

2  Western  Civilization  in  Its  Economic  Aspects,   (Ancient  Times),  Cam- 
bridge, 1902,  pp.  73-4,  85,  94-100. 
a  IlicL,  p.  74. 


14  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

determined  without  regard  to  his  own  desires.  When 
the  laborer's  return  was  in  money,  he  might  spend  it  as 
he  chose.  The  introduction  of  money-payments  for  labor 
made  a  larger  proportion  of  the  people  masters  of  their 
own  time.  The  free  man  differed  from  the  slave  or  serf 
in  that  the  former  had  free  time,  and  it  became  a  matter 
of  choice  as  to  how  he  should  occupy  that  time.  If  he 
chose  to  spare  from  manual  tasks  timer  to  devote  to  affairs 
or  self -development,  he  enjoyed  some  leisure  for  political 
life. 

In  addition  to  freedom  in  the  disposal  of  his  time, 
money  economy  favored  freedom  to  migrate  and  to 
change  employment.  As  long  as  the  state  was  main- 
tained by  the  personal  rendering  of  service,  men  were 
bound  to  give  payment  in  kind,  and  were  restricted  to 
some  definite  place.  But  with  the  introduction  of  money 
taxation,  a  man  paid  taxes  and  was  free  to  move,  "so 
long  as  his  property  is  within  reach,  and  can  be  claimed 
for  public  purposes."4  Industry  was  also  affected  by 
the  change.  In  natural  economy,  the  laborer  must  work 
at  the  traditional  occupation  of  his  family,  and  train 
his  son  to  follow  him.  It  was  well  nigh  impossible  for 
him  to  change  his  employment.  But  when  accumulated 
hoards  of  wealth  might  be  realized  in  money,  the  capital- 
ist could  readily  embark  on  new  enterprises  by  selling  out 
his  establishment  and  reinvesting  his  capital  in  some 
other  enterprise.  Thus,  in  a  money  economy  persons 
who  possessed  even  small  funds  of  convertible  wealth 
might  change  their  employments,  whereas  in  the  primi- 
tive natural  economy  they  were  doomed  to  pass  their 
working  lives  in  the  same  old  ruts  as  their  forefathers. 
Hence  the  intervention  of  money  opened  up  possibilities 

*Ibid.,  pp.  94-95. 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  15 

of  progress  and  personal  independence  unknown  to  prim- 
itive economy. 

In  the  Greek  city-states,  the  citizens  were  emancipated 
from  the  constraints  of  the  customary  obligations,  be- 
cause money  made  them  free  to  buy,  sell,  and  bargain 
with  one  another.  Making  for  clarity  of  thought,  free- 
dom of  action,  and  personal  independence,  money-econ- 
omy helped  to  separate  economic  and  political  affairs, 
and  constituted  a  factor  of  no  small  importance  in  estab- 
lishing that  degree  of  political  freedom  for  which  the 
Greek  cities  have  been  justly  famous. 

FOOD,    MONEY,    AND    DEBT 

The  food  supply  is  a  matter  of  utmost  concern  for 
every  large  community.  Attica  was  no  exception  to  this 
rule.  Ordinarily,  food  is  obtained  from  the  neighbor- 
hood which  the  community  inhabits.  But  when  popula- 
tion increases,  the  law  of  diminishing  returns  at  length 
begins  to  operate,  and  the  people  are  forced  to  import 
larger  and  larger  proportions  of  their  food.  In  primi- 
tive times,  the  population  of  Attica  was  readily  main- 
tained by  the  food  resources  of  the  region,  and  peasants 
cultivated  small  plots  of  land.  Each  family  group  was 
self-sustaining.  As  Athens  grew,  these  earlier  condi- 
tions gave  place  to  new  problems  which  affected  the  food 
supply. 

The  introduction  of  a  money-economy  tended  to  disturb 
traditional  economic  relations.  Accustomed  to  meeting 
his  obligation  to  capitalist,  landlord,  or  state,  by  service 
or  payment  in  kind,  the  demand  for  payment  in  money 
compelled  the  poor  farmer  to  revolutionize  his  whole  plan 
of  economic  existence.  To  obtain  money  to  meet  the  de- 
mands of  a  tax-collector,  he  must  sell  his  produce  for 


16  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

money.  In  lean  years,  when  prices  were  high  and  his 
crop  was  too  small  to  secure  gain,  he  had  to  compete  with 
imported  produce.  In  good  years,  the  price  was  apt  to 
be  low,  and  he  could  not  afford  to  set  aside  a  surplus 
against  poor  seasons.  Moreover,  methods  of  marketing 
farm-produce  were  primitive,  and  it  must  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  sell  it.  As  agriculture  had  outgrown  the  primi- 
tive stage  in  which  it  was  pursued  to  supply  the  needs  of 
a  cultivator's  household  alone,  and  had  become  a  trade 
producing  for  the  market,  the  farmer  needed  to  procure 
advances  of  money  from  the  capitalist  to  enable  him  to 
purchase  the  seeds  and  materials  with  which  to  carry  on 
his  business.  Thus  it  became  customary  for  rich  men  to 
assist  the  poor  peasant  by  making  advances  in  silver  on 
security  of  the  debtor's  land.5  Under  this  system,  it  was 
quite  likely  that,  in  years  of  large  crops,  the  farmer  could 
not  sell  at  a  price  high  enough  to  cover  his  expenses  and 
pay  the  debt,  so  that  the  debt  was  carried  over  from  year 
to  year  and  accumulated.  Finally,  it  often  reached  an 
amount  which  made  redemption  hopeless.  The  capital- 
ist then  took  the  land  in  satisfaction  of  the  debt,  or  sold 
the  poor  peasant  and  his  family  into  slavery.  In  this 
manner,  small  holdings  were  gradually  consolidated  into 
large  estates,  cultivated  by  debt-slaves.  Competition 
with  the  larger  slave  estates  was  ruinous  for  the  small 
free  farmer,  even  if  he  had  not  incurred  a  large  debt  upon 
his  land.  The  close  proximity  of  the  debt-slave  popula- 
tion, with  its  inefficient  working  methods  and  low  stand- 
ards of  living,  must  have  had  a  demoralizing  effect  upon 
the  free  farmers  who  remained. 

This  agrarian  depression  made  it  inevitable  that  larger 
and  larger  numbers  of  yeomen  should  desert  their  small 

*Plut.,  Solon,  15. 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  17 

country  holdings  and  seek  occupations  in  the  city.  But  it 
still  was  possible  to  work  the  large  estate  for  a  profit, 
because  •  slaves  were  used  to  cultivate  the  ground,  and 
slaves  could  be  cheaply  maintained.  Although  society 
had  adopted  the  money  economy,  the  internal  manage- 
ment of  the  capitalistic  slave  estate  was  still  based  on 
natural  economy.  It  was  a  self-sufficing  economy  in  that 
the  slaves  produced  food  for  themselves  an$  for  their 
master's  household.  The  land  was  devoted  more  and 
more  to  the  cultivation  of  the  most  profitable  crops :  fruit, 
olives,  and  other  products  which  it  was  permissible  to  ex- 
port, and  for  which  there  was  little  competition  in  the 
Athenian  market.  Thus  it  came  about  that  the  depres- 
sion of  the  yeomen  farmer-class,  and  the  devotion  of  es- 
tates to  the  cultivation  of  luxuries,  discouraged  the 
production  of  corn.  Athens  became  more  and  more  de- 
pendent upon  importation  of  her  food  supply. 

SLAVERY  IN  GREECE 

Slaves  increased  in  numbers  very  rapidly  and  were 
obtained  from  many  different  sources : 6 

(1)  Those  born  slaves  usually  remained  slaves,  the 
condition  being  hereditary.    In  general,  however,  it  was 
cheaper  to  buy  a  slave  than  to  pay  the  cost  of  rearing  him 
to  the  age  of  labor. 

(2)  Slaves  were  obtained  by  the  sale  of  children  of 
free  parents.     The  sale  of  children,  however,  was  not  per- 
mitted in  Attica,  nor  their  exposure,  except  at  Thebes. 

(3)  A  third  source  of  the  slave  supply  was  by  action 
of  the  law.    Up  to  the  time  of  Solon,  the  debtor  became 
the  slave  of  his  creditor.    In  Athens,  freemen  and  metics 

6  Ingram,  J.  K. — A  History  of  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  London,  1895,  pp. 
15-20. 


18  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

were  likely  to  be  sold  as  slaves  if  they  did  not  discharge 
their  obligations  to  the  state. 

(4)  A  fourth  source  of  slaves  was  by  capture  in  war. 
Sometimes,  even  Greeks  were  reduced  to  slavery  by  other 
Greeks.    After  Thebes  was  taken  by  Alexander,  it  is  said 
that  thirty  thousand  women  and  children  were  sold  as 
slaves. 

(5)  The,  fifth  source  of  slaves  was  through  piracy  and 
kidnapping.     Pirates  descended  upon  the  coasts  and,  car- 
rying off  captives,  sold  them  as  slaves.    In  case  a  victim 
was  ransomed  from  the  pirates,  by  Athenian  law  he  be- 
came the  slave  of  his  redeemer  until  he  had  paid  the  pur- 
chase price  in  money  or  labor.     There  was  also  a  brisk 
trade  in  carrying  off  children  and  rearing  them  as  slaves. 

(6)  The  final  source  of  slaves  was  from  commerce.    A 
regular  slave-trade  developed.     Syria,  Pontus,  Phrygia, 
Lydia,  Galatia,  Paphlagonia,  and  Thrace  were  sources  of 
the  commercial  supply  of  slaves.     Since  Asiatics  were 
most  easily  controlled,  they  were  of  high  value.     The 
eastern  princes  held  Greek  slaves  in  high  esteem,  es- 
pecially female  musicians  and  dancers.    Athens  derived 
revenue  from  the  tax  on  the  sale  of  slaves.    Besides  Ath- 
ens, the  principal  slave-markets  were  at  Cyprus,  Samos, 
Ephesus,  and  Chios. 

Slaves  were  sold  for  various  prices.  A  Carian  sold 
for  115  drachmas,  or  $15 ;  a  Syrian  could  be  purchased 
for  301  drachmas,  or  $42 ;  three  Thracian  women  sold  for 
from  135  to  222  drachmas,  that  is,  $18.75  to  $31.  Slaves 
under  the  working  age  could  be  bought  for  as  low  as  153 
drachmas,  or  $21.  The  slave  who  was  skilled  at  a  trade 
was  more  highly  valued.  A  courier  would  sell  at  a  price 
of  ten  mines,  or  from  $135  to  $155.  At  a  household  auc- 
tion at  Athens  in  the  year  415,  the  average  price  for  men 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  19 

was  166  drachmas,  and  for  women  170.7  Xenephon  esti- 
mated that,  whereas  it  cost  540  drachmas  ($74)  to  main- 
tain a  free  laborer  for  a  year,  a  slave  who  could  accom- 
plish the  same  amount  of  labor  would  cost  but  180  drach- 
mas ($26).  Considering  the  original  purchase  price  of 
the  slave  as  300  drachmas,  the  saving  on  slave-labor 
would,  in  fifteen  months,  entirely  wipe  out  the  purchase 
price.  Thus  the  slave  would  pay  for  himself  in  fifteen 
months,  and  ever  afterwards  his  labor,  beyond  the  cost 
of  maintenance,  would  be  net  gain.8 

Since  slaves  were  obtained  from  so  many  diverse 
sources,  they  represented  many  nationalities.  Decrees 
of  emancipation  and  burial  inscriptions  give  us  a  clue  to 
the  large  proportion  of  foreigners  among  the  slaves. 
Usually,  very  few  Greek  names  appeared  in  these  decrees. 
Prom  one  list  of  124  manumissions,  there  were  22  Syr- 
ians, 22  Thracians,  8  Galatians,  6  Italians,  4  Armenians, 
4  Sarmatians,  4  Illyrians,  not  to  mention  Phrenicians, 
Jews,  Egyptians,  and  Arabs. 

We  cannot  give  an  exact  account  of  the  number  of 
slaves.  At  a  census  taken  in  309  B.C.,  it  was  estimated 
that  there  were  21,000  citizens  in  Athens  and  about  400,000 
slaves  in  Attica.  Perhaps  these  figures  are  made  unduly 
large  by  the  inclusion  of  metics.  As  early  as  the  fifth 
century,  conservative  estimates  put  the  slave  population 
at  two  fifths  of  the  population  of  all  Greece.  But  slaves 
were  not  found  in  great  numbers  in  the  interior;  they 
were  found  chiefly  at  commercial  and  manufacturing  cen- 
ters, and  in  the  richer  agricultural  regions.  M.  Wallon 
has  estimated  that  the  number  of  slaves  in  Attica  devoted 

*  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  392,  note. 

8  Zabrowski,  S. — "Ancient  Greece  and  the  Slave  Population,"  Annual 
Report  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  1912,  pp.  602,  605. 


20  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

to  domestic  services  was  40,000;  in  agriculture,  35,000; 
working  in  the  mines,  10,000 ;  and  90,000  engaged  in  man- 
ufactures and  commerce.9  Cavaignac  estimates  that  in 
the  year  431  B.C.,  there  were  20,000  adult,  male  slaves  in 
tbe  Athenian  mines.10  The  number  of  slaves  owned  by 
private  persons  was  sometimes  considerable.  Hipponi- 
cus,  a  rich  man,  owned  600 ;  the  father  of  Lysias  employed 
120  in  the  workshop  of  his  armor  factory ;  Nicias,  the  gen- 
eral, employed  1000  in  the  mines.11 

In  general,  the  Greeks  treated  their  slaves  well.  Mas- 
ters had  an  economic  motive  in  kind  treatment,  for  the 
varied  activities  of  the  slave  made  him  a  valued  posses- 
sion. Indeed,  the  slave  often  held  a  position  of  impor- 
tance and  responsibility  in  the  family.  Although  gener- 
ally excluded  from  sacred  ceremonies  and  public  sacri- 
fices, slaves  often  participated  in  domestic  rites.  They 
were  also  allowed  to  enjoy  a  part  in  popular  festivals. 
Sometimes  the  master  of  the  house  would  even  erect  a 
monument  testifying  to  his  affection  and  regard  for  a 
deceased  slave.  The  Old  Oligarch  speaks  of  the  Athen- 
ian slaves  as  almost  indistinguishable  in  appearance  from 
regular  citizens.12  On  the  other  hand,  the  slave  laborers 
in  the  mines  were  chained  together  and  worked  in  gangs. 
Under  these  conditions  they  were  branded  and  treated 
as  beasts.  Many  worked  as  deep  as  250  feet  below  the 
surface,  where  the  dampness  made  the  death  rate  very 
high. 

The  Athenian  law  did  not  leave  the  slave  without  pro- 
tection. If  a  master  killed  a  slave,  he  might  be  tempo- 
rarily exiled.  The  slave  who  killed  his  master  could  not 

9  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  22. 

10  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  393,  note. 

n  Gulick,  C.  B. — Life  of  the  Ancient  Greeks,  New  York,  1911,  pp.  66-67. 
12  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  378. 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  21 

be  punished  by  the  victim's  relations;  they  were  obliged 
to  hand  over  the  slave  to  a  magistrate,  who  dealt  with 
him  by  due  process  of  law.13  In  some  cases,  however, 
the  only  recourse  against  the  cruelty  of  masters  was  in 
flight.  The  slave  who  saved  a  sum  of  money  by  labor  and 
economy  would  often  be  required  to  pay  the  money  to  his 
master  in  return  for  freedom.  The  cost  of  manumission 
varied.  One  hundred  and  sixty-two  redemption  prices 
are  recorded  as  ranging  between  300  and  500  drachmas, 
or  $41  to  $69.  Two  were  as  high  as  2000  drachmas,  or 
$278 ;  312  women  were  ransomed  at  prices  ranging  from 
300  to  500  drachmas.14  Thoughtful  Greeks  recognized 
that  the  most  satisfactory  way  of  supplying  a  slave  with 
an  incentive  to  do  good  work  was  to  offer  him  the  pros- 
pect of  ultimate  freedom.15 

IMPORTED  GRAIN 

In  agricultural  industry  the  free  yeoman  farmer,  dis- 
couraged because  of  the  hard  conditions  under  which  he 
labored,  was  gradually  driven  from  the  field.  There  was 
a  tendency  for  small,  private  holdings  of  land  to  be  con- 
solidated into  large  estates.  Capitalists  employed  slaves 
to  raise  the  crops,  but  since  it  was  more  profitable  to 
grow  fruit  and  olives  than  corn,  a  smaller  and  smaller 
proportion  of  the  Athenian  grain  supply  came  from  the 
immediate  neighborhood.  Athens  was  forced  to  import 
her  grain  from  Pontus,  Thrace,  Syria,  Egypt,  Libia,  and 
Sicily.  To  protect  the  course  of  her  corn  ships  from 
interruption  by  enemies,  Athens  fortified  the  promontory 
of  Sunium  and  provided  convoys  for  the  fleets.  As  mer- 
chants were  inclined  to  inquire  the  range  of  prices  at  dif- 

is  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  26.  15  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  386. 

i*  Zabrowski,  op.  cit.,  p.  606. 


22  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ferent  ports  and  select  tHe  market  which  offered  the 
highest  prices,  it  was  difficult  to  have  the  corn  shipped  to 
Piraeus  in  preference  to  other  ports.  To  compel  the  con- 
signment of  corn  to  this  port,  a  law  was  made  forbidding 
the  loan  of  money  on  bottomry, — money  loaned  on  the 
security  of  a  ship  and  cargo, — to  any  vessel  which  did  not 
bring  a  return  cargo  of  grain  to  Athens.16  Vessels  laden 
with  corn  were  compelled  to  sell  two  thirds  of  their  cargo 
in  Athens,  and  only  one  third  could  be  exported.17  But 
middlemen  speculated  in  corn  and  frustrated  the  effort  to 
have  an  abundant  food  supply.  Athenian  wholesale  deal- 
ers bought  up  the  corn  upon  its  arrival,  and  held  it  for  a 
rise  in  value  until  they  could  retail  it  at  exorbitant  prices. 
Laws  were  made  with  a  view  to  controlling  the  anti-social 
operations  of  unscrupulous  middlemen.  Officials  were 
appointed  to  keep  account  of  the  corn  and  the  prices  at 
which  it  was  sold,  in  order  to  enforce  a  measure  which 
limited  the  amount  that  each  man  might  purchase  to  fifty 
measures  (about  75  bushels).  The  officials  also  fixed  a 
selling  price  which  would  allow  only  a  moderate  return  on 
the  sum  paid.  The  problem  was  also  partially  met  by 
public  granaries  at  Athens,  wherein  a  public  stock  of 
corn  was  kept  and  from  which  at  intervals,  as  we  shall 
see,  food  was  sold  at  low  prices  to  the  poorer  citizens. 

SOCIAL  UNREST  AND   THE   CLASS   STRUGGLE 

The  poorer  classes  in  seventh-  and  sixth-century 
Attica  found  it  hard  to  make  a  living.  Although  prices 
were  higher,  wages  remained  about  the  same.  A  few 
capitalists  were  becoming  richer  and  richer,  and  the 
common  people  were  growing  poorer  and  poorer.  Be- 

i«Boeckh,  op.  tit.,  i,  77-78. 

"  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  pp.  103-104. 


23 

cause  the  wealth  remained  in  comparatively  few  hands, 
the  people  were  discontented.  They  wanted  new  laws 
which  would  grant  them  greater  rights  and  help  relieve 
them  from  the  burden  of  debts.  The  first  codification 
of  the  laws  was  made  under  Draco,  in  621  B.C.  Prior  to 
this  date  the  laws,  being  unwritten  and  known  only  to 
the  nobles,  were  interpreted  by  them  for  their  own  ad- 
vantage. But  Draco's  codification  of  the  law  failed  to 
correct  the  real  conditions  which  were  responsible  for 
so  much  misery  among  the  lower  classes.  The  nobles,  in 
their  desire  to  acquire  all  the  wealth  in  the  state,  forced 
debtors  upon  their  lands  to  become  slaves.  When  a  lord 
laid  claim  to  a  field  or  plot  of  land  which  he  desired  he 
placed  upon  it  a  boundary  stone  to  indicate  that  it  be- 
longed to  him. 

THE  SOCIAL,  BEFORMEES 

In  response  to  growing  popular  discontent,  the  aristo- 
crats were  compelled  to  grant  the  poorer  citizens  greater 
rights  in  the  state.  Solon,  a  man  of  broad  and  liberal 
views  although  of  aristocratic  descent,  was  appointed  to 
change  the  laws  in  594  B.C.  Solon  first  attempted  to  cor- 
rect economic  troubles  by  means  of  a  broad  program  of 
social  reform.  He  ordered  the  immediate  removal  of 
all  boundary  stones,  in.  order  that  tenants  might  be  re- 
leased from  payment  of  debt  to  the  nobles.  As  he  de- 
sired to  secure  freedom  for  citizens  in  the  future,  he  drew 
up  his  so-called  personal  liberty  laws.  He  first  canceled 
all  debts  resting  upon  security  of  land.  From  public  and 
private  funds,  he  attempted  to  redeem  Athenians  who  had 
been  sold  into  slavery  in  foreign  lands.  He  prohibited 
the  selling  of  a  child  or  a  kinswoman  into  slavery.  No 
one  ever  after  should  lend  money  on  the  security  of  the 


24  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

person.  Besides  important  agrarian  reforms,  Solon 
made  certain  improvements  in  the  constitution.  Among 
his  constitutional  reforms  was  a  provision  that  the  poor- 
est class,  as  well  as  the  others,  was  to  be  admitted  to  the 
popular  supreme  court.  Because  attendance  at  these 
meetings  had  long  remained  unpaid,  only  the  well-to-do 
could  afford  to  attend  them.  By  admitting  the  thetes  to 
this  assembly,  Solon  gave  them  the  power  of  protecting 
their  own  freedom  and  property  forever. 

In  addition  to  these  general  legislative  reforms,  this 
sagacious  statesman  drew  up  certain  special  laws.  He 
wanted  to  prevent  famine  by  keeping  at  Athens  the  food 
produced  within  the  country.  With  this  in  view,  he  for- 
bade the  exportation  of  all  products  of  the  soil,  with  the 
exception  of  olive  oil.  To  foreigners  who  were  willing  to 
come  to  Athens  with  their  families  in  order  to  carry  on  a 
trade,  Solon  gave  facilities  for  acquiring  citizenship.  To 
encourage  skilled  industry,  he  compelled  every  man  to 
teach  his  son  a  trade.  Solon  was  wise  enough  to  see  that, 
since  the  soil  was  not  particularly  fertile  and  hence 
largely  unfit  for  agriculture,  the  country  could  hope  for 
prosperity  only  by  engaging  in  manufacturing  and  com- 
merce. To  promote  commerce,  Solon  adopted  a  silver 
coin  as  the  money  standard  for  his  city.  This  was  a 
great  advantage  because  it  insured  trade  with  other  cities 
and  with  certain  prosperous  colonies  which  used  the  same 
standard.  These  laws  helped  to  develop  Athens  along 
manufacturing  and  commercial  lines.  Through  inter- 
course with  other  countries,  the  Athenians-  discovered 
many  luxuries  and  entered  into  commercial  relations 
with  Sicily,  Italy,  Cyprus,  Egypt,  and  Lydia. 

The  rights  and  privileges  which  the  people  had  gained 
under  Solon's  rule  were  so  new  to  them  that  they  failed 


SOCIAL  CONDITIONS  25 

to  appreciate  their  importance,  and  the  class  struggle 
within  the  state  continued.  The  people  were  divided  into 
three  natural  classes:  the  plainsmen,  or  rich  landown- 
ers ;  the  shoremen,  who  consisted  mainly  of  traders  living 
near  the  coasts ;  and  the  hillmen  and  farmers,  who  lived 
near  the  hills.  Taking  advantage  of  the  popular  discon- 
tent and  commotion  a  certain  noble  named  Pisistratus 
proclaimed  himself  leader  of  the  hillmen.  As  the  cham- 
pion of  their  cause,  he  obtained  enough  power  to  rule  the 
state.  Fortunately,  the  machinery  which  Solon  had  in- 
vented still  continued  to  operate,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
Pisistratus  was  the  real  power,  for  the  latter  was  really 
like  a  political  * '  boss, ' '  although  the  Greeks  called  him  a 
tyrant.  His  most  farsighted  enterprise  was  an  attempt 
to  establish  colonies  on  the  Hellespont,  in  order  to  enlarge 
the  trade  of  Athens.  At  his  death,  the  people  expe- 
rienced two  years  of  civil  strife ;  then  a  noble  named  Cleis- 
thenes,  leader  of  the  popular  party,  succeeded  in  putting 
an  end  to  the  class  strife.  Originally,  the  plain-,  shore-, 
and  hillmen,  being  united  in  their  activities,  enjoyed  con- 
siderable power.  Cleisthenes  redivided  the  townships  of 
Attica  in  a  new  fashion.  He  grouped  small  local  com- 
munities into  ten  new  tribes,  so  that  the  townships  of  the 
same  tribe  were  not  all  together,  some  being  located  near 
the  hills,  others  in  the  plains,  and  the  remaining  town- 
ships on  the  shore.  By  breaking  up  the  old  tribal  com- 
munities and  substituting  small  separated  townships,  the 
unity  of  each  of  these  antagonistic  classes  was  broken, 
and  they  ceased  to  give  trouble. 


CHAPTER  III 
INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

SINCE  industry  always  develops  with  commerce,  Athens 
became  the  manufacturing,  as  well  as  the  commer- 
cial, center  of  Greece.  Of  course,  Athens  never  be- 
came a  great  industrial  center  like  the  factory  cities  of 
to-day,  for  she  produced  chiefly  for  home  consumption, 
and  most  of  her  exports  were  the  manufactured  products 
of  small  shops.  But  from  imported  raw  material,  Ath- 
ens manufactured  shields  and  other  metal  work.  She  ex- 
ported her  surplus  of  wine  and  oil,  and  also  clay  jars, 
painted  vases,  statuettes,  blocks  of  Pentelic  marble,  and 
the  creations  of  her  silversmiths. 

Xenophon  tells  us  of  one  merchant  who  ground  only 
barley  meal  and  yet,  from  the  earnings  in  this  business, 
was  able  to  maintain  not  only  himself  and  his  domestics, 
but  many  pigs  and  cattle  besides.  Frequently  he  realized 
such  large  profits  in  the  business  that  he  contributed  to 
the  burden  of  public  services.  Another  man  lived  lux- 
uriously from  the  earnings  of  a  bread  factory,  while  oth- 
ers gained  a  good  livelihood  out  of  the  cloak  business  and 
the  manufacture  of  shawls  and  sleeveless  tunics.  A  shoe- 
maker is  said  to  have  received  from  the  earnings  of  his 
employees  two  obols — about  five  cents  per  head — or 
$16.50  a  year.  Demosthenes  had  an  income  of  $725  a 
year  from  two  shops  which  he  maintained ;  one,  a  cutlery ; 
the  other  devoted  to  the  manufacture  of  beds. 

Most  of  the  industrial  activities  of  Athens  appear  to 

26 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY          27 

have  been  carried  on  by  workmen  in  their  own  shops  and 
homes.  The  handicraft-domestic  system  seems  to  have 
quite  generally  prevailed.1  Industrial  workers  were 
craftsmen,  not  factory  hands  like  the  workers  of  to-day. 
We  must  remember  that  in  Greece  agricultural  work  was 
still  supreme.  It  was  regarded  as  the  most  commend- 
able occupatiqn  because  it  made  those  who  followed  it 
self-sufficing  and  independent  of  others ;  moreover,  it  was 
the  traditional  occupation.  Industry  was  always  subor- 
dinate to  tillage.  The  average  Greek  family  was  approx- 
imately self-supportiiig.  The  workers  made  their  own 
plows  and  pruning-hooks,  spun  and  wove  their  garments* 
constructed  and  repaired  their  houses,  and  carried  on  all 
the  necessary  activities  of  their  lives  without  depending 
upon  outside  help.2  Nevertheless,  there  was  some  degree 
of  specialization  in  industry.  The  lame  man,  who  could 
not  work  in  the  field,  became  a  blacksmith  at  the  forge. 
In  time  it  was  recognized  as  undesirable  for  a  family  to 
make  its  own  pots,  baskets,  and  plows,  when  some  spe- 
cially trained  craftsman  could  do  the  work  far  better. 

In  sixth-century  Athens,  men  made  a  livelihood  by  their 
specialties.  Solon  has  given  us  a  list  of  some  of  the 
skilled  occupations  of  his  day:  the  trader,  the  farmer, 
the  metal  worker,  the  weaver,  the  poet,  the  diviner,  and 
the  doctor.3  In  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries  B.C.,  the 
division  of  labor  included:  millers,  grain  jobbers,  bakers, 
fullers,  and  dyers,  manufacturers  of  garments,  hat  mak- 
ers, jewelers,  masons,  furniture-,  and  cabinet-makers,  pot- 
ters, makers  of  shields,  spears,  bows,  knives,  helmets,  and 
breast-plates.  The  division  of  labor  in  furniture-  and 
cabinet -making  was  carried  out  to  a  considerable  degree 


1  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  p.  1 10.  3  IMd.,  p.  253. 

2  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  252. 


28  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

of  specialization.  There  were  door-,  bed-,  chair-,  and 
chest-makers,  and  turners  who  rounded  the  legs  of  chairs 
and  tables.4 

The  stone  contractor  was  himself  a  workman,  and  held 
a  very  different  position  from  the  modern  contractor  who 
simply  organizes  hired  help.  He  was  really  a  master- 
mason  who  worked  by  the  side  of  his  men.  There  ap- 
pears to  have  been  little  rivalry  and  less  competition 
among  these  simple  craftsmen.  In  an  armor  manufac- 
tory inherited  from  his  father,  the  orator  Lysias,  himself 
a  metic,  employed  120  slaves.  A  record  of  payments 
made  by  the  state  for  the  construction  of  the  Erechtheum 
in  409  B.C.,  relates  that  wages  were  paid  to  27  citizens,  40 
free  outlanders  (metics),  and  15  slaves.  Other  records 
show  that  various  groups  of  workmen — freemen,  for- 
eigners, and  slaves — were  employed  upon  public  works. 
In  these  activities,  the  slaves  and  non-citizens  appear  to 
have  done  the  same  tasks  as  the  citizen  workman.  The 
three  classes  worked  together  and  seem  inextricably 
mixed. 

THE  CERAMIC  FACTORY 

A  potter's  workshop  was  a  sort  of  primitive  factory. 
But  here,  as  in  the  stone-yard,  the  master  worked  at  the 
same  job  with  his  apprentices,  encouraging  them  in  their 
efforts  and  superintending  the  handiwork.  The  division 
of  labor  in  the  ceramic  factory  was  far  less  minutely  spe- 
cialized than  with  us.  A  considerable  degree  of  individ- 
ual skill  was  demanded  of  the  workman,  and  he  was  ca- 
pable of  different  tasks.  Familiar  with  all  details  of  the 
craft,  the  workman's  activity  was  not  a  mechanical  one. 
A  proof  of  the  absence  of  modern  standardization  in 

*  Gulick,  op.  cit.,  pp.  229-233. 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY          29 

product  is  seen  in  the  fact  that,  of  hundreds  of  vases  dis- 
covered, none  are  devoid  of  originality,  nor  are  any  two 
identical.  Yet  there  was  some  division  of  labor,  for  we 
find  craftsmen  engaged  in  working  the  clay,  preparing 
the  glaze,  preparing  the  colors,  painting,  taking  care  of 
the  ovens,  and  moving  materials.  The  establishment 
was  divided  into  two  main  parts :  a  workshop,  where  the 
turning,  shaping,  and  polishing  of  the  vases  took  place ; 
and  a  place  for  the  baking  and  drying  of  the  pots  in  the 
furnace.5  In  all,  there  must  have  been  several  buildings ; 
a  room  for  the  vase  turners  and  makers,  a  room  for  the 
painters,  ovens  in  the  court  without,  and  a  shed  for  stor- 
age of  raw  materials  and  for  kneading  and  refining  the 
clay.  In  addition,  perhaps,  there  was  a  warehouse  and 
a  salesroom.  Upon  a  vase  from  Ruvo,  the  studio  is  rep- 
resented as  containing  four  painters,  and  thus  it  may  be 
concluded  that  a  modest  staff  would  amount  to  at  least 
fifteen  or  twenty  workmen.  Pettier  says  that  a  potter 
like  Douris  must  have  had  a  factory  of  some  size;  and 
yet  the  investment  in  equipment  and  material  could  not 
have  been  large,  for  besides  refined  clay  of  different  col- 
ors for  glazing  and  retouching,  the  main  materials  con- 
sisted of  lusters  to  brighten  the  natural  color  of  the  clay, 
wheels  and  molds,  rules  and  compass,  sharp  points  for 
sketching,  and  brushes  of  all  kinds.6 

THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR 

In  this  craftswork,  no  great  investments  of  capital  were 
needed.  In  fact,  the  materials  were  usually  provided  by 
the  customer  who  gave  the  order.  When  you  wanted  a 

5  Pettier,  E. — Douris  and  the  Painters  of  Greek  Vases,  London,    1909, 
transl.  by  B.  Kahnweiler,  p.  23. 
e  Ibid.,  p.  26. 


30 

pair  of  shoes,  you  took  your  leather  to  the  cobbler's  and 
had  him  shape  it  to  your  foot.  It  was  not  the  business 
of  a  craftsman  to  buy  his  supplies.  They  were  brought 
to  him  and  he  labored  upon  them  to  make  them  service- 
able. 

Our  modern  craftsmen  select  strategic  situations  to 
carry  on  their  trade — places  where  they  are  free  from 
competition  of  a  fellow- worker.  It  was  quite  the  reverse 
in  Athens.  Each  craft  had  its  own  quarters.  Thus, 
there  might  be  the  "street  of  the  sculptors,"  or  the 
"street  of  the  box-makers,"  and  the  like.  There  was  no 
competition  between  shops,  but  merely  the  friendly  ri- 
valry of  those  engaged  in  performing  the  same  service 
and  making  the  best  article  they  could  possibly  manufac- 
ture. These  arts  and  crafts  had  their  own  associations, 
but  not  for  economic  gain.  Workmen  did  not  associate  to 
protect  their  own  interests,  but  united  on  social  and  re- 
ligious grounds.  Since  they  were  not  looking  for  riches, 
but  rather  for  honor  and  a  decent  livelihood,  they  did  not 
raise  or  cut  prices,  but  allowed  the  prices  of  their  wares 
to  be  fixed  by  custom. 

In  Greece,  craftsmanship  covered  a  wider  sphere  of 
activity  than  with  us.  Every  specialist  was  a  crafts- 
man. As  such,  all  earned  a  decent  living,  and  thus  it 
was  seldom  that  they  worked  for  wages.  They  might 
with  dignity  receive  wages  from  the  city,  since  they  were 
citizens,  but  as  freemen,  they  scorned  wages  from  their 
equals.  Interpreting  Salvioli,  Zimmern  says:  "Such 
an  arrangement  would  have  put  the  craftsmen  almost 
in  the  position  of  the  slave.  His  aim  in  life  was  very 
different :  to  preserve  his  full  personal  liberty  and  free- 
dom of  action,  to  work  when  he  felt  inclined  and  when 
his  duties  as  a  citizen  permitted  him,  to  harmonize  his 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY          31 

work  with  all  the  other  occupations  which  filled  the  life 
of  a  Greek,  to  participate  in  the  government,  to  take  his 
seat  in  the  courts,  to  join  in  the  games  and  festivals,  to 
break  off  his  work  when  his  friends  called  him  out  to  go 
to  the  market-place  or  the  wrestling  school,  or  when  his 
colleagues  in  the  craft  were  holding  a  dinner — all  of  the 
things  which  were  incompatible  with  a  contract  at  a  fixed 
wage. ' ' 7 

The  contemptuous  attitude  of  the  ancient  Greeks  to- 
ward manual  labor  was  the  result  of  a  point  of  view  which 
differs  so  fundamentally  from  our  own  that  it  is  easily 
misunderstood.  The  spirit  which  animated  the  Greek 
worker  was  ordinarily  one  of  joy  in  his  work,  for  labor, 
as  such,  was  not  despised.  But  this  pleasure  in  labor 
was  experienced  only  when  there  was  independence  and 
freedom  from  restraint.  Consequently,  when  men  found 
it  necessary  to  break  in  upon  their  time  for  political 
duty  because  of  the  necessity  of  working  for  self-support, 
such  labor  was  regarded  as  demoralizing.  The  thetes, 
who  labored  by  the  day  for  a  money  wage,  were  to  that 
extent  dependent  upon  others,  and  hence  held  in  con- 
tempt. Small  traders,  who  sold  their  goods  in  person 
and  led  a  sedentary  life,  making  but  trivial  gains  and  re- 
puted for  their  avarice  and  undignified  haggling,  were 
considered  inferior.  Artisans,  who  worked  indoors  at 
their  trade,  appeared  to  them  as  much  deprived  of  per- 
sonal liberty  and  free,  out-of-door  life  as  slaves.  Such 
work  was  therefore  contemptible,  and  industrial  arts 
were  called  slavish.  Even  great  painters,  sculptors,  and 
artists  were  in  some  disrepute,  because  they  accepted 
money  for  their  work.  But  the  extensive  operations  of 
great  wholesale  merchants  gripped  the  imagination  of 

i  Pp.  265,  266. 


32  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

the  Greek  to  such  an  extent  that  the  activities  of  these 
large  operators  were  not  despised.  The  nai've  idealism 
of  this  attitude  toward  productive  labor  is  well  explained 
by  Tucker.8  He  says : 

...  No  people  in  the  world  ever  set  such  a  value  on  outward 
superiority  of  person  and  manners  as  did  the  classical  Athenians. 
...  In  the  first  place,  they  did  not  despise  work,  as  such,  nor 
were  they  constitutionally  indolent ;  what  they  disliked  was  the 
uncomely,  physical  effects  of  labor,  especially  of  indoor  labor; 
they  detested  that  which  made  them  acquire  a  stoop,  or  stunted 
the  limbs,  or  misshaped  the  hands,  or  begrimed  the  person.  In 
the  second  place,  they  had  an  intense  passion  for  personal  inde- 
pendence, and  their  ideal  of  personal  freedom  of  action  and 
speech  could  hardly  be  attained  by  one  who  had  to  serve  and 
court  the  custom  of  his  neighbor.  In  the  third  place,  the  vulgar 
and  material  concerns  of  the  lower  occupations  prevent  the  mind 
from  gathering  the  culture  and  refinement  which  come  of  good 
company  and  abundance  of  intellectual  intercourse. 

CHARITY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Since  many  of  the  citizens,  although  free  men,  derived 
no  income  from  shops  or  properties,  they  eventually  be- 
came objects  of  public  support.  Whereas  in  Crete  and 
Sparta  the  citizens  were  wholly  supported  from  the  pub- 
lic treasury,  the  Athenian  citizens  were  aided  in  various 
ways.  We  have  seen  how  Solon  tried  to  preserve  the 
independence  and  dignity  of  the  laboring  men  by  cancel- 
ing debts  and  mortgages  pledged  on  a  security  of  person ; 
and  we  have  seen  how  his  successor,  Pisistratus,  tried  to 
postpone  the  social  decline  of  the  people ;  but  the  methods 
of  these  legislators  were  not  altogether  successful.  In 
order  to  relieve  the  situation,  Athenians  were  sometimes 
selected  from  the  two  lowest  classes  and  emigrated.  Plu- 

s  Life  in  Ancient  Athens,  London,  1911,  pp.  79-80.  See  also  Zimmern, 
op.  cit.,  pp.  266-7,  and  Gulick,  op.  cit.,  pp.  188-190,  233-4,  236-8. 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY          33 

tarch  says :  ' '  By  this  means  he  relieved  the  state  of  nu- 
merous idle  agitators  and  assisted  the  necessitous."  In 
some  respects,  this  policy  of  emigration  was  a  beneficial 
method,  because  it  gave  to  persons  who  were  formerly 
idle,  the  opportunity  of  owning  property  and  becoming 
self-respecting  and  self-supporting.  A  less  satisfactory 
method  of  caring  for  idle  citizens  without  property  was 
by  supplying  corn  at  reduced  rates.  The  public  gran- 
aries, which  we  have  mentioned  in  another  context,  were 
erected  at  public  expense,  and  provided  considerable 
stores  of  grain.  Since  the  maintenance  of  this  large 
number  of  idle  citizens  depended  upon  the  corn  fleets, 
Athens  was  very  much  concerned  about  the  safety  of  her 
fleets.  In  general,  this  public  corn  was  distributed  to 
adult  citizens  of  18  years  of  age,  and  others  whose  names 
appeared  upon  the  official  registers. 

For  those  who  were  unable  to  earn  a  livelihood  be- 
cause of  physical  disability  or  infirmity,  there  was  a  sys- 
tem of  public  relief.  A  citizen  who  had  property  valued 
at  not  more  than  $60  was  qualified  to  receive  this  aid.9 
State-pensioned  cripples  received  an  obol  a  day.10  The 
senate,  when  it  examined  the  case  of  Socrates,  awarded  a 
bounty  of  one  or  two  obols  a  day — about  five  cents. 
There  was  also  a  special  fund  for  the  orphans  of  those 
who  had  fallen  in  war. 

During  the  period  of  Athenian  commercial  expansion, 
large  fortunes  were  accumulated  by  a  few  persons,  but 
after  the  Peloponnesian  War,  the  wealth  of  the  country 
ceased  to  grow.  Since  the  people  had  become  largely 
townfolk  and  had  lost  their  primitive  thrift,  it  was  not 
possible  to  return  them  to  the  country  for  support.  The 
main  reliance  for  the  maintenance  of  the  governing  class 

a  Lock,  -op.  tit.,  p.  28.  10  Gulick,  op.  tit.,  p.  249. 


34  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

of  citizens  was  therefore  by  emoluments.  These  emolu- 
ments consisted  of  payments  to  citizens  for  attendance  at 
public  gatherings.  According  to  Plutarch,11  the  allow- 
ances for  attending  theaters,  payments  for  performing 
public  duties,  and  other  practices  which  built  up  bad  hab- 
its and  changed  the  people  from  a  sober,  thrifty  folk  who 
maintained  themselves  by  their  own  labors,  to  an  extrava- 
gant and  intemperate  rabble,  were  initiated  by  Pericles. 
It  all  came  about  because  Pericles  found  that  Cimon,  his 
competitor  for  popular  leadership,  was  accustomed  to 
issue  invitations  to  dinner,  give  clothes  to  the  aged,  and 
in  other  ways  to  assist  the  masses,  writh  the  object  of 
buying  their  support.  Pericles,  therefore,  bought  over 
the  people  to  his  support  by  moneys  allowed  for  attend- 
ance at  shows,  jury  duty,  and  other  public  services. 

In  considering  these  emoluments,  it  should  always  be 
remembered  that  the  Athenian  citizen  regarded  his  politi- 
cal duties  as  of  paramount  importance.  A  free  citizen 
should  devote  his  time  to  public  service  in  assemblies  and 
law  courts.  If  he  had  to  support  himself  by  his  own 
labor,  he  could  not  be  the  independent  political  unit  that 
he  ought  to  be,  and  participate  in  these  activities.  Con- 
sequently he  was  not  considered  a  dependent  because  he 
received  a  public  allowance  sufficient  for  his  support. 

Citizens  over  thirty  years  of  age  were  elected  to  the 
Council  of  the  Five  Hundred  (boule),  and  received  five 
obols  (15  cents)  a  day  for  attendance.  They  also  en- 
joyed exemption  from  military  service.  The  Popular 
Assembly  (ecclesia)  was  composed  of  citizens  over  eight- 
een years  of  age.  The  fee  for  attendance  was,  at  first, 
one  obol  a  day;  in  the  fourth  century  it  was  two  obols, 
and  later  became  nine  obols.  Since  the  minimum  at- 

11  Pericles,  dough's  revision,  1912,  vol.  i,  p.  234. 


I 

o. 


35 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY         37 

tendance  of  6000  citizens  was  necessary  to  transact  busi- 
ness, a  considerable  number  of  persons  must  have  been 
maintained  in  this  way.  The  average  size  of  the  body  of 
citizens  composing  the  law  courts  was  6000,  of  whom  one 
thousand  were  substitutes.  The  pay  was  two  obols  a 
day  in  the  time  of  Pericles,  and  was  increased  to  three 
obols  a  day  by  Cleon.12  It  is  apparent  that  public  emolu- 
ments reached  a  large  proportion  of  the  citizen  body,  since 
by  404  B.C.,  after  the  Peloponnesian  War  and  the  plague, 
there  were  only  about  20,000  male  citizens  left.13 
Boeckh,  in  his  Public  Economy  of  Athens,14  estimates 
that  in  384^323  B.C.,  a  poor  family  of  four  free  persons 
could  live  on  about  six  to  nine  cents  a  day,  and  this  esti- 
mate includes  rent.  Thus,  a  citizen  who  attended  an  as- 
sembly or  a  court  would  receive  sufficient  compensation 
to  cover  the  expenses  of  his  subsistence.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  day-laborers  received  about  ten  cents  a  day. 
At  public  festivals,  citizens  received  five  cents  a  day.  In 
addition  to  these  public  affairs,  there  were  religious 
feasts,  with  a  free  meal  accompanying  them.  Finally, 
there  were  numerous  confiscations  of  private  property, 
and  the  poorer  citizens  shared  in  the  distribution. 

Besides  these  public  forms  of  benevolence,  there  was 
much  private  liberality.  Wealthy  citizens  considered  it 
a  part  of  their  civic  duty  to  share  in  the  expense  of  cer- 
tain public  services.  It  is  recorded  that  at  a  trial,  in  425 
B.C.,  a  citizen  submitted  evidence  to  show  that  his  father 
had  expended  more  than  ten  thousand  dollars  during  his 
life  in  paying  the  expenses  of  choruses,  fitting  out  vessels 
for  the  navy,  and  paying  an  income-tax  to  provide  for 
emergencies.  In  addition  to  this,  he  frequently  helped 


,  op.  cit.,  pp.  206-215.  "Eng.  transl.,  pp.  109,  117. 

is  Ibid.,  p.  60. 


38 

poor  citizens  by  granting  marriage  portions  to  their 
daughters  and  sisters.  He  paid  the  funeral  expenses  of 
others,  and  even  ransomed  some.13 

The  effect  of  this  extensive  public  aid  was  most  unfor- 
tunate. It  tended  to  pauperize  the  citizens,  to  discourage 
enterprise  and  thrift  among  the  wage  earners.  It  under- 
mined the  independence  and  self-respect  of  the  workers. 
Aristotle  observed  the  bad  effect  of  indiscriminate  dis- 
tribution of  public  aid  to  idle  citizens.  He  said  it  was 
like  pouring  water  through  a  sieve  and  expressed  the 
opinion  that  the  state  should  make  prosperity  permanent. 
Many  of  his  ideas  were  quite  modern.  For  example,  he 
thought  that  aid  once  given  should  be  adequate,  and  that 
charity  should  be  voluntary,  rather  than  compulsory.  To 
make  the  aid  adequate,  he  suggested  that  public  relief 
should  be  given  in  such  large  quantities  that  the  poor 
might  acquire  small  farms  or  be  set  up  in  business,  and 
thus  permanently  rehabilitated. 

THE  SEEDS  OF  DECLINE 

The  account  given  of  social  life  in  Greece  has  included 
occasional  reference  to  conditions,  the  persistence  of 
which  would  bring  about  decay.  The  Greeks  were  short- 
sighted in  their  consumption  of  wealth.  Greek  states- 
men drew  recklessly  on  their  mineral  resources,  seem- 
ing to  believe  that  their  supply  of  silver  was  inexhaust- 
ible. In  time,  of  course,  it  was  worked  out.  The  soil, 
which  may  ordinarily  be  preserved  for  generations  of  use 
by  proper  tillage,  the  use  of  fertilizers,  and  crop  rota- 
tion, was  also  exhausted  by  wasteful  slave  cultivation. 
The  yeoman  debt-slave  was  a  reluctant  worker,  unskilled 
and  inefficient,  and  consequently  wasteful.  By  continued 

is  Plut.,  Cimon. 


INDUSTRY  AND  SOCIAL  ECONOMY          39 

cropping,  the  fertile  sections  of  Greece,  at  best  not  exten- 
sive, were  exploited. 

Greek  idealism  has  given  us  some  of  the  most  superb 
artistic  products  that  have  come  from  the  hand  of  man, 
but  this  same  idealism  was  accompanied  by  an  economic 
misuse  of  capital.16  When  accumulated  sums  of  wealth 
and  treasure  are  laid  out  in  such  productive  works  as 
irrigation  canals,  public  roads,  harbors,  large-scale  inten- 
sive agriculture,  an  economic  return  is  assured,  for  the 
investment  yields  continuous  income  and  thus  new  op- 
portunities for  further  progress  in  wealth  are  offered. 
But  when  the  wealth  of  the  nation,  the  accumulated  treas- 
ure, the  skill  and  labor,  is  sunk  in  beautiful  public  build- 
ings, there  is  no  economic  return  upon  the  investment. 
During  construction,  these  beautiful  buildings  afforded 
employment,  but  when  completed,  they  served  no  eco- 
nomic purpose  except  that  of  display.  They  could  not 
be  utilized  for  the  production  of  more  wealth,  nor  did  they 
act  as  an  incentive  to  trade.  Thus  the  wealth  of  the  Greek 
was  deliberately  squandered  in  unproductive  works; 
his  wealth  was  invested  in  forms  which  did  not  lead  to 
the  development  of  natural  resources  or  trade.  The  to- 
tal sum  spent  on  public  works  in  the  period  447  to  432  B.C. 
is  estimated  at  $47,000,000,  a  vast  sum  for  those  day's.17 
There  was  no  means  of  withdrawing  the  capital  so  in- 
vested and  turning  it  to  other  account.  It  is  true  that 
these  beautiful  architectural  creations  gave  aesthetic  in- 
come, but  such  an  income  is  not  expedient  when  the  civi- 
lized community  is  surrounded  by  the  menacing  hostility 
of  barbarians. 

The  population  of  the  cities  became  a  restless,  pauper- 
is  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  pp.  119-123. 
if  Zimmern,  op.  cit.,  p.  406. 


40  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ized  element,  maintained  by  low-priced  public  corn,  pri- 
vate liberality,  and  emoluments.  In  this  way,  the  thrifty 
habits  of  the  people  were  undermined  and  their  char- 
acter demoralized.  The  Greeks  never  understood  the  law 
of  diminishing  returns  in  economic  life,  and,  like  other 
ancient  peoples,  were  equally  ignorant  of  the  important 
sociological  principle  that  the  resources  of  citizenship 
are  best  conserved  by  maintaining  those  conditions  which 
encourage  a  spirit  of  self-respect,  self-reliance,  independ- 
ence, and  habits  of  self-help  among  a  people.  The  ideal- 
ism of  the  Greeks  was  superb,  but  they  seemed  to  lack  a 
certain  hard-headed  practicability  which  takes  account 
of  the  homely  basis  of  citizenship. 


PART  II.    THE  ROMAN  PERIOD 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  LAND  AND  MILITARISM 

JUST  as  Greece  was  for  many  centuries  the  early  fron- 
tier of  the  ancient  world,  so  the  Italian  peninsula  became 
the  later  frontier  of  the  ancient  world.  Physical  condi- 
tions were  as  important  in  the  early  development  of  Ro- 
man dominion  as  in  the  early  development  of  Greek 
power.  The  Italian  peninsula,  jutting  out  into  the  mid- 
dle of  the  Mediterranean,  was  strategically  located  for 
favorable  development,  so  that  from  early  times  traders, 
immigrants,  and  adventurers  came  to  Italy.  Because  of 
her  central  location,  Italy  was  directly  in  the  midst  of  the 
maritime  life  of  the  Mediterranean.  Whether  trade  went 
east  or  west,  north  or  south,  Italy  was  so  situated  as  to 
have  her  share  in  this  commercial  development.  From 
the  Italian  peninsula  it  was  not  far  to  the  Grecian  penin- 
sula on  the  east,  nor  far  to  Africa  to  the  south.  By 
Sicily,  to  the  west,  the  way  lay  open  to  Spain  through 
Corsica  and  Sardinia. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  exposed  position  of  Italy  had 
the  disadvantage  of  offering  easy  access  to  invasion  by 
enemies.  Hence  political  unification  was  essential  if  the 
inhabiting  peoples  were  to  survive  in  the  struggle  with 
alien  invaders,  and  motives  of  self-preservation  first  led 
Rome  to  policies  of  military  expansion. 

Considering  the  Italian  peninsula  itself,  its  area  is 
about  twice  that  of  the  State  of  New  York,  being  about 
seven  hundred  miles  long  and  averaging  about  one  hun- 

43 


44  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

dred  miles  wide  in  the  central  part.  Along  the  western 
coast  of  Italy,  there  are  more  numerous  and  better  har- 
bors than  on  the  precipitous  eastern  coast.  It  was  nat- 
ural, therefore,  for  the  Latin  people  living  at  Borne  to 
spread  their  influence  to  the  west,  where  they  came  in 
contact  with  the  fresh,  virile  peoples  of  Spain,  Gaul  and 
western  Europe.  These  peoples  assimilated  the  vigorous 
Roman  culture  more  readily  than  the  peoples  of  the  East. 

The  land  surface  of  Italy  was  favorable  to  social  de- 
velopment. To  the  north  were  the  fertile,  alluvial  plains 
of  the  Po  River.  The  great  mountain  masses  of  the 
Apennines  which  extend  along  the  northwestern  coast  of 
the  mainland,  soon  run  eastward  and  then,  turning  south- 
ward, pass  the  center  of  the  peninsula,  thereafter  run- 
ning somewhat  nearer  to  the  eastern  coast.  The  conse- 
quence is  that  the  eastern  slope  is  more  abrupt  and  de- 
void of  harbors  and  navigable  streams,  whereas  the  west- 
ern slopes  are  gradual  and  terminate  in  fertile  coast 
plains. 

The  Apennines  do  not  cut  Italy  into  isolated  valleys 
in  the  way  that  Greece  is  divided,  because  the  spurs  do 
not  run  from  east  to  west.  This  arrangement  gives  the 
peninsula  more  geographical  unity,  and  different  sections 
depend  upon  land  routes  rather  than  upon  ships  and  the 
sea.  Although  the  Alpine  highlands  of  the  north  acted 
as  a  protection  against  enemies,  they  discouraged  com- 
merce. In  this  favorable  location  which  combined  such 
advantageous  natural  features,  the  early  population  of 
Italy  developed  frontier  qualities  of  courage,  patience, 
hardihood,  and  practical  intelligence. 

Since  the  Italian  peninsula  extends  through  several 
degrees  of  latitude,  and  since  there  are  fertile  plains  and 
high  mountain  masses,  a  great  variety  and  diversity  of 


THE  LAND  AND  MILITARISM  45 

climate  exists.  In  the  North  and  on  the  upper  slopes  of 
the  mountains,  we  find  a  temperate  climate  and  products 
of  central  Europe;  in  the  South,  the  climate  is  sub- 
tropical, with  a  vegetation  much  like  that  of  Africa.  This 
diversity  in  natural  products  permitted  all-round  growth, 
and  formed  the  natural  basis  for  national  prosperity. 
The  natural  resources  of  the  locality  consisted  of  such 
useful  products  as  stone,  copper,  timber,  fruit,  and  grains. 
The  fertile  soil  and  favorable  climate,  combined  with  a 
strategic  location  for  commerce,  favored  the  early  accu- 
mulation of  a  surplus  and  the  development  of  a  powerful 
civilization. 

THE   COMMON   CAUSE  AND  FEDERATION 

Since  the  early  inhabitants  of  Eome  enjoyed  no  natural 
protective  barriers  like  those  of  Greece,  but  were  easily 
accessible  from  east,  south,  and  west,  some  form  of  union 
was  necessary  if  the  community  was  to  survive.  The 
people  of  early  Rome  lived  on  an  open  plain,  exposed  to 
the  warlike  raids  of  the  fierce  mountaineers  of  central 
Italy  and  the  aggressions  of  the  Etruscans  of  the  North. 
These  Latin  tribes  were  driven,  therefore,  to  gain  by 
treaty  and  agreement  a  security  not  afforded  by  natural 
barriers.  Almost  at  the  beginning  of  her  career,  Rome 
adopted  a  policy  of  alliance  with  her  neighbors  for  pur- 
poses of  mutual  security  and  protection.  A  league  of 
thirty  cities  was  formed  to  secure  immunity  from  hos- 
tile invasion.  Rome  did  not  at  first  reduce  her  less  pow- 
erful neighbors  to  complete  submission.  By  treaties 
she  bound  each  community  or  tribe  to  herself,  yet  kept 
them  completely  isolated  one  from  the  other.  In  this 
way  the  danger  of  combination  against  her  was  reduced. 
Each  of  the  separate  communities  enjoyed  a  large  degree 


46  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

of  freedom  in  retaining  its  own  customs  and  in  enjoying 
commercial  and  social  relations  with  Rome.  In  this  way 
a  secure  political  federation  was  built  up,  and  Rome  was 
able  to  maintain  and  extend  her  military  supremacy  un- 
hampered by  troubles  at  home.  During  this  early  period 
Roman  power  rested  not  merely  on  a  material  basis  but 
also  upon  a  moral  basis,  for  she  had  welded  together  un- 
der her  leadership  a  group  of  unprotected  peoples.  This 
federation  was  able  to  stand  secure  against  outside  attack, 
to  maintain  internal  law  and  order,  and  yet  allow  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  freedom  of  policy  for  each  of  the  com- 
ponent units.  Cunningham  says,  ' '  These  are  exactly  the 
conditions  which  afford  the  best  opportunity  for  eco- 
nomic progress. ' ' l 

MILITAEISM    AND    AGRICULTURE 

Economic  conditions,  as  well  as  physical  surroundings 
and  national  traditions,  inspired  a  policy  of  conquest  and 
exploitation.  The  armies  of  Rome,  unlike  those  of  Car- 
thage, were  composed  of  citizen  soldiers,  not  mercenaries. 
The  consequent  drain  of  army  recruits  from  agricultural 
occupations  seriously  interfered  with  the  cultivation  of 
the  soil.  The  military  conquests  of  Rome  brought  cap- 
tives of  war  for  slavery.  These  slaves  were  utilized  in 
such  numbers  to  cultivate  the  land  that  their  competition 
with  the  free  peasant  farmers  became  demoralizing  and 
disastrous.  Wealthy  men  obtained  large  landed  estates 
in  much  the  same  fashion  as  they  had  in  Greece.  These 
holdings  were  cultivated  by  slave  labor,  chiefly  utilized 
to  produce  luxuries  for  export.  Cultivation  of  food 
crops  was  neglected,  so  that  Rome  was  not  self-support- 
ing as  regards  her  food,  and  resort  was  made  to  the  im- 

iOp.  cit.,  p.  154. 


THE  LAND  AND  MILITARISM  47 

portation  of  grain.  In  the  Italian  cities,  particularly 
Rome,  we  find  a  congregation  of  idle  men  and  women,  just 
as  we  found  at  Athens.  The  city  populace  of  Rome  was 
fed  with  the  imported  grain,  sold  at  such  low  prices  that 
the  practice  was  ruinous  to  the  yeoman  farmer.  He 
could  not  maintain  himself  and  produce  grain  which 
would  sell  at  less  than  the  market  price.  Food  produc- 
tion in  the  vicinity  of  Rome  declined,  and  the  city  came 
to  depend  more  and  more  upon  an  imported  supply.  New 
lands  must  needs  be  conquered  to  supply  food  by  impor- 
tation, in  the  absence  of  an  adequate  domestic  supply. 
Thus  economic  conditions,  connected  with  policies  of  mil- 
itary expansion  and  exploitation,  completed  a  vicious 
circle,  and  Rome  became  dependent  upon  conquests  for 
food.  Roman  colonization  was  not  impelled  by  ordinary 
motives  of  migration;  it  was  rather  one  of  the  many 
governmental  expedients  for  the  progress  of  conquest 
and  subjugation.  Roman  colonies  were  outposts  which 
insured  the  extension  of  Roman  domain  by  successive 
advances.2 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  155,  156. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE 

THE  Romans  were  mostly  a  peasant  folk  living  the 
frugal,  simple  life  of  small  farmers  on  the  fertile  plains 
of  the  Tiber.  This  hard  life  inculcated  the  sterner  vir- 
tues of  bravery,  courage,  initiative,  and  practicality.  A 
dignified  family  life  bound  the  people  together  with  aus- 
tere religious  ties.  Although  they  enjoyed  a  consider- 
able degree  of  personal  independence,  the  people  were 
divided  into  social  classes.  Those  of  noble  birth,  who 
could  trace  their  family  ancestry  through  many  genera- 
tions, held  office  as  senators,  magistrates,  or  priests. 
The  great  masses  of  the  common  people  (plebeians),  how- 
ever, although  personally  free,  could  not  hold  office.  The 
patricians  alone  were  acquainted  with  the  laws,  and  the 
plebeians  were  constantly  at  a  disadvantage  in  business 
and  social  dealings  because  of  their  ignorance  of  legal 
rules.  But  the  plebeians  obtained  a  certain  degree  of 
legal  protection  through  the  relationship  of  patron  and 
client.  A  plebeian  chose  a  noble  as  his  patron ;  then  be- 
came the  client.  The  patron  gave  his  client  legal  advice 
in  the  conduct  of  his  business ;  he  brought  suits  for  him, 
and  defended  him  when  sued.  In  return  for  this  protec- 
tion, the  client  became  dependent  upon  the  patron ;  it  was 
his  duty  to  follow  him  to  war  and  support  him  in  public 
life ;  he  made  him  presents  and  labored  in  his  fields.- 

Even  in  early  times,  the  distinction  between  the  rich 
and  poor  was  clearly  marked.     Common  lands  were  held 

48 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  49 

by  the  Roman  state  and  let  out  to  citizens  as  pastureland 
in  return  for  a  small  rental.  Territory  gained  by  con- 
quest was  let  out  in  a  similar  way.  Since  the  wealthier 
nobles  became  the  governing  officials,  they  were  inclined 
to  take  advantage  of  their  privileges  and  seize  more  than 
their  just  share  of  the  common  lands.  By  this  means  the 
aristocrats  gradually  centralized  the  control  of  wealth  in 
their  own  hands,  and  the  common  people  became  poorer. 
Exploitation  of  the  people  was  carried  so  far  that  in  time 
the  term  " patrician"  came  to  signify  aristocracy,  or  a 
large  landowner,  and  "plebeian,"  a  small  landowner,  or 
landless  man.  But  the  plebeians  did  not  submit  tamely 
to  this  centralization  of  wealth.  Through  centuries  of 
struggle  they  gradually  gained  rights  of  participation  in 
determining  the  policies  of  the  government.  Thus  inter- 
nal Roman  history  is  largely  a  story  of  class  struggle. 

In  kingly  times,  the  assembly  of  the  people  was  con- 
sulted before  war  was  declared  or  radical  changes  in 
the  public  policy  adopted,  but  at  length  a  new  popular 
assembly  developed.  For  some  years  the  assembly  had 
been  organized  in  accordance  with  a  military  system 
which  divided  the  people  into  classes  based  upon  property 
qualifications.  During  the  early  republic,  this  military 
grouping  of  the  people  was  gradually  substituted  as  a 
voting  assembly  for  the  old  assembly  of  curiae.  Thus  it 
came  about  that  the  more  property  a  man  possessed,  the 
greater  was  his  political  influence. 

DEBT-SLAVERY   AND    SOCIAL   REVOLUTION 

The  common  people  did  not  gain  by  the  overthrow  of 
the  monarchy  in  the  later  period  of  kingship,  for  the 
kings  had  usually  protected  the  people  from  the  oppres- 
sion of  the  powerful  nobles.  There  was  a  movement 


50  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

among  the  aristocracy  to  reduce  their  clients  to  a  condi- 
tion of  slavery.  The  nobles  looked  upon  unpaid  rent  as 
a  debt,  bearing  interest.  Peasants  who  were  in  arrears 
became  deeply  indebted  to  the  nobles.  Creditors  fre- 
quently seized  a  delinquent  debtor  and  held  him  as  a 
slave  until  he  had  worked  off  the  debt  by  labor.  He 
might  even  be  sold  into  real  servitude  to  foreigners. 
Debtors  were  sometimes  put  into  private  prisons  and  tor- 
tured, that  their  friends  might  be  influenced  to  redeem 
them.  These  intolerable  conditions  led  the  people  to 
revolt.  The  whole  plebeian  army  deserted  the  city  and 
marched  off  to  the  sacred  mount,  threatening  to  found  a 
new  city.  The  governing  body  or  senate,  was  left  help- 
less without  the  plebeian  army,  with  no  one  to  make 
shoes,  to  make  wine  jars  or  to  do  the  carpentry.  This 
''general  strike"  succeeded  in  bringing  the  nobles  to 
terms,  and  by  an  agreement  drawn  up  on  the  sacred 
mount  in  493  B.C.,  the  common  people  were  to  have  two 
annual  officers  of  their  own,  called  " tribunes,"  whose 
duty  it  was  to  protect  all  poor  citizens  unjustly  treated. 
It  was  also  provided  that  the  person  of  the  tribune  was 
to  be  considered  sacred,  so  that  any  one  who  injured  a 
tribune  or  hindered  him  in  his  duties  might  legally  be 
slain.  The  tribunes  were  assisted  by  two  other  officers, 
called  aediles.  Under  the  protection  of  the  tribunes,  the 
common  people  continued  their  old  popular  assembly,  and 
passed  resolutions  which  were  binding  only  upon  them- 
selves. 

Jealous  of  the  new  rights  of  the  commons,  the  nobles 
intrigued  to  diminish  popular  power  and  to  impede  the 
common  business.  Many  of  their  clients,  although  land- 
less men,  had  political  influence.  To  "destroy  the  influ- 
ence of  this  hostile  class,  a  law  was  passed  through  the 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  51 

senate  and  military  assemblies  which  provided  that  the 
plebeian  assembly  should  vote  by  tribes ;  that  is,  each  of 
the  twenty-one  tribes  was  to  cast  a  single  vote.  This 
measure  excluded  landless  men  from  the  plebeian  assem- 
bly, because  only  landowners  were  enrolled  in  the  tribes, 
and  the  new  assembly  so  formed  was  called  a  comitia 
tributa. 

THE   WRITING  OF   THE   LAWS 

During  all  this  period  of  struggle,  the  laws  had  re- 
mained unwritten.  Oral  tradition  was  handed  down 
from  father  to  son  in  noble  families  who  used  their  ex- 
clusive knowledge  of  the  law  to  benefit  and  oppress  the 
common  people,  much  as  the  Greek  nobles  had  done.  Un- 
der these  conditions,  no  plebeian  could  quote  the  law  as 
a  proof  of  the  injustice  he  had  suffered.  To  improve 
the  condition  of  the  common  people,  the  tribunes  began  to 
urge  the  codification  of  the  laws.  Fortunately  this  re- 
form was  encouraged  by  one  of  the  nobles,  Appius  Claud- 
ius. Under  his  influence,  the  tribunes  and  the  senate 
agreed  to  permit  a  codification  of  the  law.  Upon  the  re- 
port of  a  committee  sent  to  examine  the  codes  of  law  of 
Greek  states,  the  assembly  of  the  centuries  elected  ten 
men, — decemviri, — empowered  to  write  the  laws.  This 
important  concession  was  obtained  in  452  B.C.,  when  the 
Roman  domain  was  upwards  of  four  hundred  square 
miles,  occupied  by  a  population  of  not  more  than  150,000. 
Plebeians  were  really  eligible  to  the  new  board,  but  the 
nobles,  holding  the  power  in  their  hands,  filled  it  with 
patricians.  The  commission  held  office  for  one  year,  but 
failed  to  complete  the  writing  of  the  laws.  A  new  board 
was  therefore  elected  for  the  following  year.  Upon  this 
board  the  common  people  secured  representation,  for 


52  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Claudius  and  at  least  three  plebeians  were  members. 
The  new  commission  inaugurated  a  liberal  policy  during 
their  period  of  governmental  control.  But,  by  their  ef- 
forts to  promote  manufacturing  and  commerce,  they  so 
angered  the  ignorant  peasants  and  offended  the  conserva- 
tive patricians,  that  the  senate  refused  to  approve  the 
two  tables  of  law  engraved  during  this  second  year. 
Nevertheless,  Claudius  and  his  colleagues,  desiring  to  se- 
cure the  ratification  of  their  liberal  measures,  determined 
to  remain  in  office.  Thereupon  their  enemies  and  certain 
popular  demagogues  accused  them  of  acting  as  tyrants, 
and  of  attempting  to  maintain  themselves  in  power  for 
life.  Influenced  by  these  demagogues,  the  plebeians 
again  called  a  "general  strike,"  and  seceded  to  the 
sacred  mount.  This  action  gave  the  senate  an  excuse  to 
make  short  work  of  the  board  of  decemvirs.  Some  of 
them  were  thrown  into  prison,  others  were  exiled  from 
the  state.  The  laws  were  finally  ratified  in  449  B.C. 
They  equalized  the  private  rights  of  all,  and,  among  other 
things,  sought  to  curb  usury  by  the  provision  that  no  man 
should  take  more  interest  for  money  than  one  per  cent,  a 
month.  If  he  broke  the  law,  he  was  to  be  fined  four 
times  the  sum. 

The  same  consuls  that  secured  the  ratification  of  the 
twelve  tables  of  the  law  were  favorably  inclined  toward 
the  lower  classes,  and  succeeded  in  passing  additional 
legislation  in  their  favor.  Prior  to  449  B.C.,  the  resolu- 
tions of  the  assembly  of  the  tribes  were  binding  only  on 
plebeians.  The  consent  of  the  senate  was  finally  secured, 
so  that  the  resolutions  of  the  assembly  of  tribes  were 
thereafter  binding  upon  the  whole  people.  This  was  a 
great  gain  for  the  common  people,  because  it  enabled 
them  to  share  in  guiding  the  policies  of  the  nation. 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  53 

About  this  time  the  tribunes  obtained  the  power  of  veto 
over  acts  which  were  passed  by  the  senate.  Should  the 
senate  or  magistrates  ignore  the  veto  of  the  tribunes, 
these  representatives  of  the  common  people  were  free  to 
obstruct  the  administration  and  enforcement  of  the  new 
measure.  Thus  for  more  than  a  century,  the  class  strug- 
gle persisted  until,  by  287  B.C.,  the  plebeians  acquired 
undisputed  right  to  veto  all  measures  of  magistrates, 
senate,  and  assemblies. 

for  centuries  intermarriage  between  the  social  classes 
was  prohibited,  but  in  445  B.C.,  plebeians  were  allowed 
to  enter  into  legal  marriage  relations  with  patricians. 
This  new  concession  gave  greater  power  to  the  wealthy 
and  influential  plebeians.  Some  years  later  (444-367 
B.C.),  as  a  consequence  of  the  removal  of  this  marriage 
restriction,  the  patricians  admitted  plebeians  to  hold 
office.  In  place  of  the  consuls,  two  military  tribunes  or 
consular  tribunes  were  elected  for  the  year,  and  both 
patricians  and  plebeians  were  eligible  for  this  office.  The 
new  law  did  not,  however,  give  the  plebeians  the  power 
which  they  sought,  because  the  plebeians '  candidates  were 
usually  defeated  for  office.  Moreover,  the  shrewd  noble 
families,  who  had  been  in  power  for  generations,  knew 
how  to  maintain  themselves  against  strong  democratic 
opposition  by  indirection  and  intrigue.  When  the  danger 
point  of  any  democratic  wave  was  reached,  they  were  al- 
ways ready  to  divert  the  public  mind  by  new  and  striking 
military  successes,  and  constantly  depended  upon  the 
power  of  patronage  to  undermine  genuine  popular  re- 
form.1 

i  Ferrero,  G. — Greatness  and  Decline  of  Rome,  vol.  i.  The  Empire  Build- 
ers, New  York,  1909,  Zimmern's  transl.,  p.  13. 


54  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

PUBLIC   LAND   AND   AGRARIAN    REFORMS 

The  public  land  which  Rome  acquired  in  the  course  of 
her  conquests  was  disposed  of  in  various  ways.  Some 
of  it  was  immediately  granted  to  settlers,  a  second  por- 
tion was  leased,  a  third  portion  sold,  but  by  far  the  larger 
part  remained  unsurveyed.  It  was  customary  to  allow 
all  who  wished  to  occupy  this  last  part  of  the  land  simply 
on  condition  that  they  pay  to  the  government  a  tenth 
of  the  grain  and  a  fifth  of  the  fruit  produced  thereon  each 
year.  In  case  flocks  and  herds  of  domestic  animals  were 
pastured  on  these  lands,  the  state  required  a  share  of  the 
animals,  both  oxen  and  sheep.  But  the  debt-oppressed 
plebeians  were  dissatisfied  with  this  last  method  of  dis- 
position, since  patricians  and  wealthy  plebeians  wrere  the 
only  ones  who  really  occupied  sections  of  the  unsurveyed 
land.  After  occupation,  these  classes  were  accustomed  to 
buy,  sell,  and  bequeath  the  land,  so  that  they  came  to 
regard  it  as  their  own  property.  More  than  this,  a  rich 
landowner  would  sometimes  eject  the  poor  peasants  who 
were  his  neighbors  from  their  small  adjoining  farms, 
and  annex  their  lands  to  his  estate. 

To  put  an  end  to  this  injustice  and  make  the  poor  less, 
dissatisfied  with  their  condition,  the  tribune  Licinius  pro- 
posed an  agrarian  reform  bill.  This  bill  eventually  be- 
came a  law  in  367  B.C.  The  provisions  of  this  law,  which 
dealt  more  immediately  with  the  welfare  of  the  people 
and  the  agricultural  problem,  are  as  follows:  (1)  No 
more  consular  tribunes  were  to  be  elected,  but  one  of  the 
two  consuls  must  ever  afterwards  be  a  plebeian;  (2) 
All  the  interest  that  had  already  been  paid  on  debts  was 
to  be  deducted  from  the  principal  amount  still  owed,  the 
balance  of  the  debt  to  be  paid  in  three,  equal,  annual  in- 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  55 

stalments;  (3)  No  person  must  occupy  more  than  five 
hundred  jugera  of  public  land  (a  jugerum  was  about  two 
thirds  the  size  of  our  acre) ;  (4)  Upon  the  public  land, 
uo  one  person  should  pasture  more  than  one  hundred 
cattle,  or  five  hundred  sheep. 

As  patricians  had  enjoyed  uncontested  power  for  so 
many  generations,  they  were  much  averse  to  the  first 
clause  of  this  law.  Consequently  the  Senate  would  not 
permit  the  first  provision  of  the  law  to  go  into  effect 
until  the  people  had  consented  to  the  creation  of  three 
new  patrician  magistrates,  a  praetor,  whose  duty  was 
to  act  as  judge  in  civil  cases,  and  two  curule  aediles  to  act 
as  supervisors  of  streets,  public  buildings  and  public 
games.  From  this  time  on,  the  leaders  of  the  plebs  made 
continuous  advances  in  their  struggle  to  obtain  office. 
The  effect  of  these  gains  was  the  growth  of  two  new 
political  parties;  the  nobles  and  their  descendants,  who 
were  office-holders ;  and  all  other  citizens,  who  were  com- 
mons. These  were  to  take  the  place  of  the  old  classes, 
the  patricians  and  the  plebeians.  Unfortunately,  that 
clause  of  the  Lycinian  law  which  dealt  with  debt  proved 
to  be  but  a  superficial  remedy  for  the  popular  distress 
which  existed,  since  it  was  merely  alleviative  and  did  not 
remove  the  causes  of  poverty. 

EXPLOITATION    OF   THE   PEOVINCES 

Rome 's  early  policies  of  expansion  were  not  followed  in 
the  latter  days  of  the  republic,  nor  during  the  period  of 
the  empire.  In  the  early  days,  it  will  be  remembered, 
Rome  showed  the  utmost  consideration  for  the  communi- 
ties which  she  had  conquered,  but  as  she  expanded  over 
the  peninsula  of  Italy  and  became  a  world  power,  the 
new  domains  did  not  enjoy  the  same  privileges  and  im- 


56  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

munities  which  members  of  the  old  Latin  league  had 
possessed. 

The  new  lands  known  as  Roman  provinces  enjoyed 
peace,  but  Rome  always  favored  her  own  citizens  at  the 
expense  of  the  local  inhabitants.  Greedy  money-lenders, 
speculators,  and  traders,  poured  from  the  capital  over 
into  the  provincial  districts,  and  unjustly  acquired  much 
of  the  property  in  the  subject  countries.  Their  Roman 
citizenship  protected  them  in  the  use  of  harsh  methods, 
and  they  speedily  reduced  the  people  to  destitution  and 
poverty.  These  Roman  capitalists  acquired  large  tracts 
of  land  which  were  built  up  into  vast  estates  cultivated 
by  slaves.  The  publicani  undertook  to  carry  out  the 
great  government,  contracts  for  Roman  roads.  Money 
for  new  enterprises  was  borrowed  from  associations  of 
money-lenders  in  Rome.  The  share-holders  in  these  asso- 
ciations lived  at  the  Imperial  City.  They  were  remote 
from  the  provinces,  unfamiliar  with  the  work  and  indus- 
try of  these  regions,  and  cared  chiefly  for  the  size  of 
their  dividends.  They  knew  nothing  about,  or  were  care- 
less of,  the  great  abuses  that  existed  in  the  mines  and 
public  works  in  which  their  money  was  invested. 

THE   GROWTH   OF   PLUTOCRACY 

The  system  of  taxation  was  most  unjust  because  taxes 
were  farmed  out.  At  an  auction,  the  privilege  of  collect- 
ing taxes  was  sold  to  the  highest  bidder.  To  reimburse 
himself  and  meet  his  contract  with  the  government,  the 
tax  collector  compelled  the  inhabitants  of  the  provinces 
to  pay  many  times  their  due.  The  evil  of  unjust  taxa- 
tion was,  no  doubt,  partly  due  to  the  short  term  of  office 
which  the  officials  enjoyed.  The  rapid  change  of  office 
without  pay  made  it  necessary  for  the  governor  of  a 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  57 

province  to  make  as  much  money  as  he  could  while  in 
office.  It  is  said  that  he  expected  to  make  three  for- 
tunes ;  the  first,  to  pay  the  debts  which  he  had  contracted 
by  bribing  his  way  to  power ;  the  second,  to  defend  himself 
in  case  of  legal  prosecution  on  his  return  to  Rome ;  and 
the  third,  to  enable  him  to  live  in  luxury  for  the  re- 
mainder of  his  days.  The  courts  which  tried  cases  of 
extortion  committed  in  the  provinces  were  so  corrupt  that 
little  reform  could  be  accomplished.  In  fact,  it  may  be 
said  that  thieves  and  plunderers  sat  in  judgment  over 
their  fellows.  In  accordance  with  this  vicious  system, 
time  brought  simply  an  exchange  of  places,  the  judges 
becoming- actual  thieves  and  plunderers  again,  while  the 
former  culprits  were  elevated  to  the  seat  of  justice.  The 
provinces  really  had  no  protection  from  this  sort  of  in- 
justice. Large  areas  fell  out  of  cultivation  because  of 
the  rapacity  of  tax  collectors,  and  even  towns  fell  into 
premature  decay.  But  exploitation  and  waste  were  not 
confined  to  the  provinces.  Italy  also  experienced  a  de- 
cline. The  Italian  communities  which  had  aided  Hanni- 
bal after  the  battle  of  Cannse  were  reconquered,  and 
their  citizens  reduced  to  slavery.  From  a  condition  of 
aliens,  they  were  degraded  to  that  of  state  serfs,  and 
large  tracts  of  their  land  were  confiscated  by  Rome. 

After  the  Second  Punic  War  (201  B.C.),  the  character 
and  ability  of  the  noble  classes  declined.  They  kept  the 
higher  offices  of  the  state  for  themselves  and  passed  them 
around  in  rotation  to  members  of  their  privileged  circle, 
forming  a  sort  of  hereditary  caste.  It  was  customary 
for  a  young  noble  to  enrich  himself  as  a  provincial 
quaestor  after  serving  as  an  officer  in  the  army.  As  an 
official,  he  must  entertain  the  populace  with  expensive 
religious  festivals  and  shows  to  gain  their  favor  and  se- 


58  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

cure  their  votes  for  still  higher  offices.  It  was  hardly 
necessary,  under  such  a  system  as  this,  to  resort  to  open 
bribery.  At  length  he  was  advanced  to  the  praetorship, 
and  afterwards  to  the  consulship.  As  the  governor  of  a 
province,  he  obtained  much  spoil,  and  the  autocratic  pow- 
ers which  he  possessed  made  him  brutal  and  haughty. 
He  might  even  be  elected  to  the  censorship  if  his  popular- 
ity was  sufficiently  established  among  the  people.  These 
nobles  were  more  than  aristocrats ;  they  were  great  capi- 
talists who  sought  to  hold  the  wealth  of  the  world.  Thus 
Rome  was  governed  by  a  selfish  plutocracy  which  sought 
to  gain  governmental  power  in  order  to  secure  more 
wealth. 

The  important  body  of  governmental  control  still  re- 
mained the  senate,  but  the  senate  had  increased  its  power 
at  the  expense  of  magistrates  and  popular  assemblies. 
The  members  of  the  senate  were  men  of  considerable  in- 
fluence and  experience ;  they  had  held  high  offices  at  home, 
served  as  commanders  of  the  Roman  armies,  represented 
Rome  as  ambassadors  to  foreign  states,  and  had  held 
other  important  offices.  Since  they  usually  held  their 
positions  for  life,  they  looked  forward  to  a  continuation 
of  their  power.  In  accordance  with  the  constitution,  all 
Roman  citizens  might  rightfully  attend  the  assemblies. 
Yet  distance  from  Rome  prevented  many  persons  from 
attending,  and  these  assemblies  were  composed  chiefly  of 
those  who  lived  in  or  near  the  city.  Although  a  mem- 
ber of  the  assembly  could  vote  for  or  against  any  can- 
didates or  measures  proposed  by  the  presiding  officer,  new 
measures  were  initiated  only  by  the  magistrates.  This 
state  of  affairs  made  it  a  simple  matter  for  these  officials 
to  gain  control  of  the  assemblies,  and  the  masses  of  the 
people  really  had  very  little  power  over  legislation. 


THE  CLASS  STRUGGLE  59 

DEMORALIZATION    OF   THE   YEOMAN    FARMERS 

The  rural  middle  class  suffered  severe  deprivations  at 
the  hands  of  this  greedy  plutocracy.  After  the  Second 
Punic  War,  an  increasing  number  of  slaves  were  brought 
into  the  market  and  sold  to  capitalists,  who  used  them 
to  cultivate  lands  and  tend  the  herds  on  their  estates. 
Thus  the  slaves  gradually  took  the  place  of  freemen  upon 
many  of  the  old  family  estates,  and  in  large  country 
districts  the  free  rural  population  became  practically  ex- 
tinct. The  small  holdings  of  the  free  peasantry  were 
thrown  together  into  large  domains  (Latifundia)  which 
were  managed  by  bailiffs  and  worked  by  slaves  who  were 
often  chained  together  in  gangs.  Thus,  at  the  basis  of 
Roman  society  there  was  a  great  servile  population, — 
inefficient,  wasteful,  sullen,  and  degraded.  Appian  says 
of  this  condition :  '  *  The  nobles  became  enormously  rich 
and,  while  the  race  of  slaves  multiplied  throughout  the 
country,  the  Italians  dwindled  in  numbers  and  in 
strength,  oppressed  by  penury,  taxes,  and  military  serv- 
ice."2 The  few  free  peasants  who  continued  to  carry 
on  the  unequal  struggle  in  the  country  were  subjected  to 
the  degrading  example  of  low-grade  work  and  low  stand- 
ards of  living  among  the  slaves  with  whom  they  had 
to  compete.  The  demoralizing  influences  of  slavery  were 
not  alone  confined  to  the  country;  they  were  found  also 
in  the  city.  At  Rome,  corporations  of  wealthy  nobles 
carried  on  industrial  work  based  mainly  upon  the  labor 
of  slaves  and  the  business  ability  of  freemen.  Slavery 
was  a  massive,  brutal,  industrial  force.  Since  slaves 
were  cheap  and  performed  the  simpler  mechanical  tasks, 
there  was  no  economic  motive  for  making  the  slave  live 

2  Civil  Wars,  1,  7. 


60  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

long.  As  a  rule,  therefore,  the  master  treated  his  slaves 
with  great  cruelty ;  for  small  offenses,  they  were  whipped, 
tortured,  or  even  crucified. 

The  middle  class  was  subjected  to  other  demoralizing 
influences  besides  slavery.  We  have  already  mentioned 
the  unjust  taxation  of  the  provinces,  which  resulted  in 
systematic  exploitation  of  free  labor.  But  another  ac- 
tivity of  the  government  was  also  effective  in  ruining  the 
yeomen.  This  consisted  in  the  artificial  price  regulation 
of  grain,  in  order  that  there  might  be  a  large  supply  of 
cheap  food  for  the  idle  citizens  of  Rome. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  PROBLEM 
OF  THE  CITY 

THE  population  of  Rome  was  largely  made  tip  of  an 
idle  and  menacing  element.  Old  soldiers  returned  from 
the  wars,  finding  their  lands  confiscated  by  the  nobles, 
or  having  lost  the  inclination  for  honest  toil,  became 
dependent  for  their  support  upon  public  and  private 
charity.  The  ruin  of  agriculture  throughout  Italy  had 
driven  thousands  of  poor  peasants  into  the  city  where 
they  could  find  little  work.  Small  farmers  had  been 
ejected  forcibly  from  their  lands,  or  had  become  so  in- 
debted that  they  gave  up  the  unequal  struggle  with  cheap 
slave  labor  and  migrated  to  Rome.  The  urban  proleta- 
riate crowded  into  cheaply-built,  wooden  lodging-houses, 
and  were  obliged  to  pay  high  rentals  for  even  a  single 
room.  These  tenements,  sometimes  from  sixty  to  seventy 
feet  high,  were  managed  and  sublet  by  freemen,  or 
lessees,  to  laborers  and  small  tradesmen.1  The  slums  of 
Rome  had  narrow  and  crooked  streets.  Many  of  the 
tenements  had  tottering  walls,  and  there  was  the  con- 
stant danger  of  falling  houses.  Sanitation  and  drainage 
were  very  poor.  Many  of  the  dependents  became  clients 
of  rich  families,  habitually  looked  to  the  beneficence  of 
these  nobles  for  their  living,  or  turned  from  honest  liveli- 
hood to  begging  or  robbery.  But  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  these  people  were  citizens,  and  hence  had  the 

i  Ferrero,  op.  tit.,  pp.  27-28. 

61 


62  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

right  to  vote  in  the  great  public  assemblies  held  at  Rome. 
By  virtue  of  this  right,  they  constituted  a  political  factor. 
Crowds  of  beggar  clients  attended  a  noble  and  voted  for 
him  in  return  for  the  loaves  of  bread  and  food  which  he 
gave  them.  The  expensive  popular  amusements  which 
the  nobles  provided  added  to  their  following  among  the 
city  rabble.  This  demoralized  populace  took  wild  de- 
light in  gladiatorial  shows  at  which  there  was  much  rend- 
ing of  flesh  and  spilling  of  blood.  The  population  was 
also  swollen  by  many  aliens  who  flocked  to  Rome  in  search 
of  adventure,  or  in  expectation  of  being  supported.  Thus 
the  masses  in  Rome  became  a  rabble — excitable,  emo- 
tional, or  sullen  as  the  mood  took  them — and,  while  con- 
stituting an  ignorant  and  dangerous  mob  which  menaced 
the  peace  of  the  state,  nevertheless,  because  of  their  votes, 
formed  a  more  or  less  powerful  political  factor. 


At  length  the  condition  of  the  masses  became  such  a 
menace  to  the  welfare  of  Rome  that  certain  changes  be- 
came inevitable.  Reform  could  not  well  come  from  the 
senate,  for,  as  the  historian  Greenidge  remarks:  " So- 
cial conservatism  was  entrenched  behind  a  political  ram- 
part. .  .  ."2  At  this  crisis  in  the  life  of  the  nation,  a 
young  man  of  plebeian  ancestry  though  of  noble  family, 
Tiberius  Gracchus,  came  into  political  prominence.  It 
so  happened  that  his  official  duties  had  taken  him  over 
a  portion  of  rural  Italy  in  which  the  magnitude  of  ex- 
ploitation wrought  by  unscrupulous  capitalists  was  most 
evident.  Tiberius  was  deeply  moved  by  what  he  saw, 
and  his  desire  to  reform  the  evil  state  of  affairs  was 

2  Greenidge,  A.  H.  J. — History  of  Rome,  B.  C.  133-104,  London,  1905, 
vol.  i,  p.  105. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  63 

further  stimulated  by  plaintive  scraps  of  anonymous 
writing  appearing  on  the  smooth  surfaces  of  monuments, 
walls,  and  porches, — entreaties  for  aid  to  force  the  pub- 
lic land  to  be  given  to  the  poor.  In  a  public  harangue, 
he  thus  described  the  condition  of  the  people:  "The 
beasts  that  prowl  about  Italy  have  holes  and  lurking- 
places  where  they  may  make  their  beds.  You  who  fight 
and  die  for  Italy  enjoy  but  the  blessings  of  air  and  light. 
These  alone  are  your  heritage.  Homeless,  unsettled,  you 
wander  to  and  fro  with  your  wives  and  children.  Our 
generals  are  in  the  habit  of  inspiring  their  soldiers  to 
combat  by  exhorting  them  to  repel  the  enemy  in  defense 
of  their  tombs  and  ancestral  shrines.  The  appeal  is  idle 
and  false.  You  cannot  point  to  a  paternal  altar;  you 
have  no  ancestral  tomb.  No !  You  fight  and  die  to  give 
wealth  and  luxury  to  others.  You  are  called  the  masters 
of  the  world ;  yet  there  is  no  clod  of  earth  you  can  call  your 
own."3  Surely  a  dismal  picture  of  the  change  wrought 
in  Roman  society  since  the  early  period  when  Roman 
citizens  had  been  landowning  and  thrifty  farmers ! 

As  tribune  in  the  year  133  B.C.,  Tiberius  proposed  to 
enforce  a  land  bill  similar  to  the  agrarian  law  of  Licinius, 
which  had  never  been  seriously  obeyed.4  The  object  of 
this  new  bill  was  to  reclaim  the  public  land  from  its  pres- 
ent private  occupiers  and  distribute  it  among  needy  citi- 
zens, so  that,  by  one  bold  move,  the  problem  of  poverty 
would  be  solved,  and  at  the  same  time  the  agrarian  situa- 
tion would  be  reformed  by  bringing  the  land  under  cul- 
tivation by  citizens  on  small  holdings. 

All  this  was  to  be  accomplished  by  the  several  provi- 
sions of  the  measure.  In  the  first  place,  those  portions  of 

a  Plut.,  Tib.  Gra.,  9. 

*App.,  Bell.  Civ.  i,  9;   Plut.,  Tib.  Gra.,  8. 


64  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

» 

the  Licinian  law  which  stated  that  no  person  should  use 
more  than  five  hundred  acres  of  public  land,  or  pasture 
more  than  one  hundred  cattle  or  five  hundred  sheep  on 
public  land,  were  reaffirmed.  He  next  introduced  a  pro- 
vision, taken  from  a.law  passed  after  the  time  of  Licinius, 
which  required  that  a  certain  portion  of  the  laborers  on 
any  farm  should  be  freemen.  Sons  of  the  present  occu- 
piers of  the  land  might  each  hold  two  hundred  and  fifty 
acres  of  land  up  to  a  maximum  of  five  hundred  acres 
among  all  the  sons  of  a  given  family.  Any  land  not  thus 
disposed  of  was  to  be  divided  among  the  poor  in  lots  of 
about  thirty  acres.  These  latter  allotments  were  to  be 
heritable  and  granted  upon  perfectly  secure  tenure,  but 
they  were  to  be  inalienable,  and  the  settlers  were  to  pay 
a  small  rental  to  the  state  for  their  use.  Tiberius  hoped 
to  make  this  law  effective  by  the  provision  that  a  commis- 
sion of  three,  chosen  annually  by  the  people  in  their  tribal 
assembly,  should  make  the  division.  In  these  respects 
the  bill  appears  to  put  in  legislative  form  some  of  the 
principles  Aristotle  urged  as  fundamental  guides  for  the 
remedy  of  poverty.  Considering  the  bill  in  the  light  of 
the  existing  conditions,  it  appears  to  have  been  a  bold  ef- 
fort to  strike  at  the  economic  causes  of  poverty  and  so- 
cial degeneration.  It  was  to  furnish  the  poor  with  an 
opportunity  to  earn  an  honest  livelihood  and  allow  them 
to  become  self-respecting  and  responsible  citizens.  The 
land-hunger  of  the  capitalist  was  to  be  checked  by  the 
inalienability  clause.  Moreover,  the  army  was  also 
strengthened  by  the  bill,  for  the  number  of  citizens  quali- 
fied to  serve  as  soldiers  was  increased. 

Such  a  socialistic  scheme  as  this  land  redistribution 
plan  could  not  have  been  made  a  law  without  stiff  opposi- 
tion from  the  landed  interests,  in  spite  of  the  provision 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  65 

it  contained  to  pay  monetary  compensation  for  the  land 
surrendered.5  It  must  have  appeared  like  confiscation 
to  many  who  had  lost  the  memory  that  their  holdings  had 
once  been  public  land.  Ancestral  homes  and  tombs  were 
scattered  over  different  parts  of  a  large  owner's  domain 
and  in  the  redistribution,  his  sacred  possessions  would, 
like  as  not,  go  to  strangers.  The  peculia  of  sons  and 
dowries  of  daughters  were  often  in  land,  and  all  these 
property  relations  would  be  destroyed.  Capital  invested 
in  improvements  by  thrifty  persons  might  go  to  unknown 
settlers.  Tenure  had  seemed  so  stable  a  thing  that  it  had 
been  accepted  as  security  for  debt.  Thus  a  variety  of  in- 
terests united  to  oppose  the  redivision  scheme.  The 
wealthy  landlord  classes  had  never  before  experienced 
such  a  danger  to  their  accustomed  habits  of  buying,  sell- 
ing, and  bequeathing  the  land  that  really  belonged  to  the 
Roman  people. 

Ferrero  points  out  that  at  the  time  Tiberius 's  bill  was 
brought  forward,  Italian  cultivators  were  just  beginning 
to  adopt  more  efficient  methods,  and  the  land  laws  threat- 
ened to  throw  this  transition  stage  into  still  greater  dis- 
order.6 

On  the  other  hand,  the  bill  was  supported  by  the  peas- 
ant and  small  landholding  classes;  by  clients,  freemen, 
artisans,  and  a  few  social-minded  conservatives.7 

The  opposition  chose  the  tribune  Marcus  Octavius,  a 
large  landholder  on  the  public  domain,  although  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  Gracchus  and  a  man  of  great  dignity  of 
character,  to  oppose  the  land  bill.  A  series  of  spirited 
debates  on  the  merits  of  the  plan  were  held  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  people.  Yet  the  eloquence  of  Tiberius  failed 

s  Plut.,  Tib.  Gra.,  9.  t  Ibid. 

e  Op.  cit.,  vol.  i,  p.  55. 


66 

to  prevail  against  the  decision  of  Octavius,  which  led  him 
to  veto  the  bill  at  the  close  of  the  debates.  In  despera- 
tion, Gracchus  tried  to  force  the  issue  by  an  edict  which 
practically  tied  up  all  official  activity  until  the  voting  on 
the  agrarian  law  should  pass  the  measure.  At  this  junc- 
ture, an  appeal  taken  to  the  senate  resulted  in  overwhelm- 
ing criticism  of  the  bill,  and  Tiberius,  with  mind  set  upon 
enacting  his  plan  into  law,  resorted  to  the  extreme  meas- 
ure of  suggesting  the  deposition  of  Octavius  from  the 
tribunate.  After  dramatic  scenes  between  the  two  repre- 
sentatives of  the  people,  Octavius  was  removed  from  office 
and  the  bill  became  law. 

In  accordance  with  Koman  law,  the  assembly  of  the 
people,  which  had  just  deposed  a  tribune  during  his  year 
of  office,  was  supreme ;  actually,  they  enjoyed  little  power. 
In  the  light  of  past  practice,  the  aristocratic  governing 
body  of  Eome, — the  senate, — declared  the  act  unconstitu- 
tional. Shortly  after  the  bill  became  a  law,  the  popular 
election  to  the  land  commission  which  was  to  administer  it 
of  Tiberius  Gracchus,  his  father-in-law  Appius  Claudius, 
and  his  younger  brother  Gaius  Gracchus,  gave  the  op- 
position new  cause  for  criticism,  and  they  openly  accused 
Tiberius  of  aspiring  to  a  tyranny.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  commission  was  really  in  the  hands  of  a  family  clique, 
but  as  Greenidge  remarks,  "it  was  perhaps  natural  for 
the  people  to  put  faith  in  the  family  of  a  champion. " 8 

The  senate  showed  its  resentment  by  refusing  to  ap- 
propriate sufficient  money  to  enforce  the  new  law.  Tiber- 
ius was  thus  faced  with  the  problem  of  trying  to  benefit 
the  poor  by  furnishing  them  land  without  the  means  of 
sowing,  or  cultivating  it,  or  of  utilizing  it  for  pasturage. 
At  this  juncture,  it  so  happened  that  the  Roman  people 

8/6tU,  p.  127. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  67 

became  unexpected  heirs  to  the  estate  of  Attalus  the 
Third,  king  of  Pergamon.  Thereupon  Tiberius  an- 
nounced his  intention  to  take  the  money  left  by  the  king, 
and  use  it  to  establish  upon  their  lands  the  poor  settlers 
provided  for  in  his  agrarian  law.9  As  this  was  a  proposal 
which  would,  in  its  practise,  usurp  the  financial  rights  of 
the  senate,  Gracchus  was  from  this  time  on  even  more 
bitterly  attacked  by  representatives  of  the  landlord  and 
aristocratic  classes.  But  he  sought  to  make  good  use  of 
the  short  time  that  remained  before  the  next  election,  by 
increasing  his  constituency  among  the  urban  classes. 
Meanwhile  the  opposition  waxed  stronger  and  more  dar- 
ing. At  length  election  day  came  and,  fortunately  for 
the  landed  interests,  it  occurred  at  harvest  time  when  the 
majority  of  Gracchus 's  rural  supporters  were  absent.  A 
riot  was  started  by  the  hostile  senators,  and  Tiberius 
Gracchus  and  three  hundred  of  his  followers  were  slain. 
This  was  the  first  time  in  the  class  struggle  that  a  Roman 
mob  had  shed  blood  in  civic  discord.  But  the  leaders  of 
this  revolution  were  senators,  men  who  had  grown  ac- 
customed to  policies  of  treachery  and  oppression  in  the 
provinces.  It  was  natural  for  them  to  take  one  step  more 
and  resort  to  violence,  in  order  to  crush  a  political  foe  at 
home.  But  the  use  of  force  was  a  dangerous  precedent 
for  the  senate  to  establish,  as  these  treacherous  acts  pro- 
voked a  social  revolution  which  was  to  last  one  hundred 
years. 

With  the  death  of  Tiberius  Gracchus,  the  keenness  of 
the  political  opposition  to  his  reforms  vanished.  The 
people  were  allowed,  year  after  year,  to  perpetuate  a  land 
commission  favorable  to  their  interests.  The  officials  car- 
ried on  their  work  with  energy.  Between  131  and  125 

»  Liv.,  Ep.  Iviii. 


68  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

B.C.,  the  register  showed  an  increase  of  upwards  of 
75,000,10  a  considerable  proportion  of  whom  must  have 
been  among  the  small  landholding  class,  and  attributable 
to  the  successful  working  of  the  new  agrarian  schemes.11 
Yet  the  land  commission  met  with  many  difficulties.  Old 
titles  had  been  lost,  and  the  right  of  state  ownership  was 
often  difficult  to  prove  because  no  historical  record  sur- 
vived to  show  where  the  assignment  had  ended  and  the 
permission  of  occupation  begun.  In  the  effort  to  secure 
good  farm  land  for  the  needy  settlers,  it  was  inevitable 
that  some  injustice  should  be  done,  and  original  occupiers 
occasionally  found  themselves  in  receipt  of  swamp  or 
barren  land  in  exchange  for  their  former  well-kept  tracts. 
The  Latins  and  their  allies,  together  with  other  interests 
that  had  suffered  under  the  commission's  policies  of  land 
distribution,  appealed  to  Scipio  ^Emilianus  for  aid. 
Scipio  was  a-  stern  soldier,  one  of  the  few  surviving  ex- 
amples of  all  that  was  dignified  and  fine  in  ancient  Roman 
character.  He  looked  with  disfavor  upon  the  political 
activity  of  his  late  kinsman,  Tiberius  Gracchus,  as  evi- 
dence of  lack  of  reverence  for  the  Roman  constitution. 
He  suggested  that  when  public  and  private  ownership  of 
land  was  in  dispute,  decision  should  be  entrusted  to  the 
consuls.  This  idea  was  embodied  in  a  new  law,  and  the 
commissioners  were  thus  shorn  of  their  power,  the  land 
law  becoming  a  dead  letter.  Immediately  the  feeling 
spread  among  the  masses  of  claimants  under  the  old  land 
law  that  they  had  been  betrayed.  Scipio  was  charged 
with  ingratitude  and  bitterly  attacked  in  public  ha- 
rangues. One  morning  he  was  found  dead  in  bed,  with 
no  marks  of  violence  on  his  person.  Thus  ended  the 

10  Greenidge,  op.  cit.,  pp.  145-150. 

11  Mommsen,  The  History  of  Rome,  bk.  iv,  ch.  iii. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  69 

career  of  an  illustrious  Roman,  representative  of  all  that 
remained  good  and  noble  in  the  aristocracy  of  the  me- 
tropolis, but  an  unyielding  conservative  in  social  reform. 

SOCIAL  LEGISLATION    OF   GAIUS   GRACCHUS 

For  nine  years  the  Roman  people  had  waited  in  expec- 
tation of  social  reform.  The  remedies  projected  by  the 
great  popular  leader  Tiberius  Gracchus  had  either  been 
nullified  by  the  intrigues  of  the  vested  interests,  or  had 
proven  inadequate  to  meet  the  complex  situation.  The 
masses  needed  a  new  champion  for  their  cause.  When 
things  looked  darkest,  the  younger  brother  of  Tiberius, 
Gaius  Gracchus,  assumed  the  role  of  leader.  Gaius  had 
all  the  sincerity  of  purpose  possessed  by  his  brother,  but 
combined  with  it  greater  natural  gifts.  He  seems  to  have 
possessed  extraordinary  emotional  and  intellectual  equip- 
ment for  the  task  of  social  reform.  He  had  a  wide  knowl- 
edge of  humanity,  great  intellectual  acumen,  and  convinc- 
ing powers  of  oratory.  His  experience  as  one  of  the  land 
commissioners  under  his  brother's  land  law  had  given 
him  practical  appreciation  of  the  interests  involved  and 
the  difficulties  to  be  met  in  social  reform.  In  official  serv- 
ice in  the  provinces,  he  had  won  distinction  in  the  field 
and  a  reputation  for  justice  in  his  dealings  with  subject 
peoples. 

When  the  tribunican  election  of  the  year  123  B.C.  drew 
near,  the  city  swarmed  with  rural  folk  anxious  to  sup- 
port Gaius  Gracchus.  In  spite  of  the  organized  opposi- 
tion of  the  conservatives,  already  quite  aware  of  the 
young  leader 's  rare  ability  and  fearful  of  his  power  over 
the  people,  Gaius  was  elected  tribune.  The  younger 
Gracchus  realized  the  difficulties  that  his  brother  had  met 
in  his  effort  to  reendow  400,000  citizens  of  the  metropolis 


70  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

with  a  new  spirit  by  the  simple  device  of  an  agrarian  re- 
form. On  the  one  hand,  he  saw  a  powerful  and  utterly 
unscrupulous  faction  in  the  great  public  landlords ;  on  the 
other,  a  mass  of  citizens  with  entire  inability  to  sacrifice 
present  comforts,  even  temporarily,  in  exchange  for  ma- 
terial future  gain.  As  Ferrero  says :  * '  The  nation  was 
by  this  time  simply  a  small  and  exclusive  oligarchy  of 
landlords  and  traders,  bankers  and  concession-hunters, 
artisans,  adventurers,  and  loafers;  the  metropolis  was 
peopled  with  a  noisy,  unprincipled,  and  self-opinionated 
mob,  thirsting  for  pleasure  and  excitement,  for  easy 
profits  and  quick  returns."12  An  intelligent  and  far- 
sighted  reformer  has,  in  all  probability,  rarely  been  fur- 
nished such  poor  working  material. 

THE    COKN    LAW    OF    GAIUS    GRACCHUS 

Gracchus  soon  set  himself  to  the  difficult  task  of  creat- 
ing a  solid  constituency  out  of  this  most  heterogeneous 
of  peoples.  He  had  observed  that  his  brother,  while  sup- 
ported by  the  rural  element,  had  lacked  a  sufficiently 
powerful  following  among  the  city  populace.  The 
clientele  of  the  rich  had  been  built  up  by  an  extravagant 
largess  which  was  entirely  undiscriminating  in  its  prac- 
tice. The  dependence  of  the  metropolitan  proletariate 
upon  this  sort  of  support  was  utterly  demoralizing.  For 
the  benefit  of  the  rabble,  the  rich  provided  gladiatorial 
shows  and  the  state  provided  gorgeous  triumphs.  Gaius 
conceived  the  idea  that  a  reliable  urban  constituency,  to 
support  his  efforts  at  social  reform,  could  be  created  in 
this  well-known  way.  He  may  not  have  recognized  the 
danger  of  the  method,  or  he  may  have  considered  that 
the  end  would  justify  the  means ;  at  any  rate,  there  were 

12  Op.  cit.,  p.  57. 


71 

ancient  precedents  and  apparently  reasonable  grounds 
for  the  plan.  The  Greek  ideal  of  a  class  of  leisured  citi- 
zens supported  by  state  payments  had  been  put  into  prac- 
tice, and  must  have  been  known  to  Gaius.  For  a  long 
time  the  Roman  government  had  been  reaping  large  re- 
turns from  its  provinces,  returns  in  which  the  proletariate 
had  not  shared.  Moreover,  something  had  already  been 
done  for  the  small  land-owning  class  in  which  the  urban 
population  had  not  shared  to  any  great  extent. 

Gracchus,  therefore,  proposed  to  sell  corn  to  Roman 
citizens  every  month  at  half  price,  that  is,  6%  asses  the 
modius.13  Greenidge  remarks  that  since  such  important 
details  as  what  proportion  the  monthly  quantity  of  grain, 
sold  at  this  cheap  rate,  bore  to  the  total  amount  required 
for  the  support  of  a  family,  whether  the  grain  was  re- 
stricted to  the  head  of  each  house,  or  granted  to  adult 
sonsj  whether  registered  citizens  alone,  or  casual  appli- 
cants received  the  aid,  are  unknown,  it  is  futile  to  draw 
final  critical  conclusions.14  It  is  possible  that  a  small 
and  continuous  loss  on  corn  would  be  less  of  a  drain  on  the 
treasury  than  the  usual  spasmodic  attempts  to  put  low- 
priced  grain  upon  the  market  in  times  of  crisis.  More- 
over, it  is  conceivable  that  steady  purchasing  on  the  part 
of  the  state  might  induce  competition  that  would  some- 
what reduce  the  normal  market  price.15  From  the  mod- 
ern point  of  view,  the  scheme  may  be  unhesitatingly  as- 
sailed because  of  its  indiscriminate  character.  There  was 
apparently  no  effort  to  inquire  into  the  means  or  worthi- 
ness of  recipients.  This  fundamental  defect  was,  in  the 
future,  to  transmute  this  law  into  the  greatest,  single, 

is  Plu.,  Gai.  Gra.,  5;  also  Appian,  B.  C.,  i,  21. 
i*  Op.  cit.,  p.  206. 
is  Ibid. 


72  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

pauperizing  influence  in  Eoman  history,  for  it  degener- 
ated into  gratuitous  distribution  of  corn,  food,  and  cloth- 
ing, and  exhausted  the  state  treasury.  If  he  was  unaware 
of  the  demoralizing  effect  of  his  plan,  Gaius  undoubtedly 
thought  that  the  wholesale  purchase  of  grain  would  be 
profitable  to  the  landed  interests,  and  the  building  of 
huge  granaries  at  Rome  would  furnish  work  for  con- 
tractors and  laborers.16 

Another  reform  which  sought  to  benefit  the  citizen  body 
as  a  whole,  was  a  revival  of  Tiberius 's  land  commission. 
Gaius 's  practical  experience  in  the  administration  of  the 
original  law  led  him  to  make  his  new  law  a  comprehen- 
sive statute  which  covered  the  field  in  considerable  detail. 
It  dealt  with  things  as  they  existed  rather  than  with 
new  principles.  There  seems  to  be  no  way  of  estimating 
the  effectiveness  of  this  new  law.17 

To  extend  his  constituency  among  the  more  influential 
classes,  Gracchus  proposed  bills  which  would  reduce  the 
legal  monopoly  of  the  senators  and  put  legal  power  within 
reach  of  the  capitalist  class.  Since  the  legal  rights  of  the 
aristocratic  element  had  long  been  a  thorn  in  the  side 
of  the  newly  rich,  this  plan  was  calculated  to  foment 
strife  between  the  two  factions  which  had  formerly  united 
to  crush  his  brother.  Another  bait  to  the  capitalists  was 
thrown  out  in  the  form  of  a  proposal  to  let  out  to  metro- 
politan financiers,  rather  than  to  the  provincials,  the  tax- 
ing of  the  Kingdom  of  Pergamus.18  Two  army  meas- 
ures, one  to  furnish  free  clothing  to  soldiers,  the  other 
setting  a  lower  limit  of  seventeen  years  as  the  age  of  en- 
listment, were  to  accomplish  a  much  needed  reform  and 

is  App.,  B.  C.,  i,  23. 

IT  Greenidge,  op.  cit.,  p.  209. 

i&Ferrero,  op.  cit.,  pp.  5S-&9. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  73 

lay  the  basis  for  a  more  satisfied  soldiery.    All  these 
proposals  became  law. 

CONSTRUCTIVE   MEASURES 

Turning  now  from  the  legislative  enactments  which 
enabled  Gaius  to  build  up  a  more  powerful  constituency 
than  his  brother.s  to  his  constructive  reforms,  we  find  that 
colonization  schemes  occupy  the  foremost  place.  By  this 
time  the  food  supply  of  Rome  had  become  a  grave  prob- 
lem. The  new  corn  law  had  helped  attract  to  the  city 
artisans,  traders,  adventurers,  and  loafers.  The  problem 
of  overpopulation  could  best  be  met  by  colonization. 
Gracchus  also  conceived  of  colonization  as  a  remedy  for 
industrial  decline.  According  to  Greenidge,  ''He  did  not 
view  agrarian  assignation  as  an  alternative  to  coloniza- 
tion, but  recognized  that  the  industrial  spirit  might  be 
awakened  by  new  settlements  on  sites  favorable  to  com- 
merce, just  as  agricultural  interest  had  been  aroused  by 
the  planting  of  settlers  on  the  desolated  lands. ' ' 19  Gaius 
was  the  first  reformer  to  suggest  that  colonization  was 
the  proper  means  of  rehabilitating  the  better  type  of  ur- 
ban proletariate.20  Considerable  discrimination  seems  to 
have  been  exercised  in  the  selection  of  his  colonists,  for 
the  character  of  each  applicant  was  investigated.21  Two 
settlements  were  actually  established  during  his  second 
tribunate,  while  in  his  first  tribunate  a  settlement  of  Car- 
thage was  proposed  by  his  colleague,  Rubrius.  There 
were  to  be  6000  colonists  divided  into  a  superior  and  in- 
ferior class,  the  former  to  receive  200  jugera  apiece,22 
with  all  allotments  in  absolute  ownership.  Gracchus  and 

19  Op.  tit.,  p.  224. 

20  Ibid. 

21  Plut.,  Gai.  Gra.,  9. 

22  Mommsen,  in  C.  I.  L.,  i,  pp.  75  et  seq. 


74  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

one  of  his  friends  were  named  among  the  triumvirs  to 
establish  this  colony. 

This  scheme  of  settlement  rounded  out  the  young  re- 
former's provision  for  his  various  proteges;  it  cared  for 
the  more  enterprising  and  worthy  of  the  urban  proletari- 
ate as  the  corn  law  had  provided  for  the  city  dregs  and 
the  agrarian  commission  had  helped  the  sturdy  farmer 
folk.  But  there  were  insurmountable  obstacles  to  the 
success  of  the  colonization  scheme.  The  people  who  were 
asked  to  support  the  measure,  and  the  beneficiaries  of  it, 
had  their  life  interests  centered  in  the  metropolis  where 
the  continual  largess  of  the  nobles  and  lately  the  corn  law 
of  Gracchus  had  combined  to  make  them  averse  to  the  in- 
itial hardships  of  a  new  settlement. 

To  complete  the  revival  of  commercial  and  industrial 
life  in  Italy,  Gaius  outlined  and  carried  through  a  great 
road-building  enterprise.  Rapid  and  easy  communica- 
tion between  towns  and  the  capital,  and  between  hamlets 
and  towns,  was  secured  by  a  series  of  cross-roads  between 
the  great  military  thoroughfares.23  The  measure  also 
must  have  helped  political  centralization,  since  the  rep- 
resentative character  of  the  comitia  would  be  increased 
by  these  improved  facilities  for  reaching  Rome.  The  ex- 
pense was  probably  met  in  part  by  dues  taken  in  at  toll- 
gates.  Repairs  may  have  been  provided  for  by  require- 
ments made  upon  the  time  of  settlers  on  the  land  allot- 
ments. 

The  extraordinary  application  of  Gracchus  to  the  exe- 
cution of  these  varied  schemes  made  him  the  busiest  and 
most  conspicuous  man  in  Rome.  Plutarch  says:  ''The 
people  looked  with  amazement  at  the  man  himself,  seeing 
him  attended  by  crowds  of  building  contractors,  auditors, 

23Plut.,  Gai.  Gra.,  6;  App.,  Bell.  Civ.,  i,  23. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  75 

ambassadors,  magistrates,  soldiers,  and  learned  men,  to 
all  of  whom  he  was  easy  of  access.  While  he  maintained 
his  dignity,  he  was  affable  to  all,  and  adapted  his  be- 
havior to  every  individual. ' ' 24  Gracchus  had  thus  be- 
come a  great  benevolent  "boss."  But  his  very  impor- 
tance and  consuming  activity  was  interpreted  by  his  ene- 
mies as  evidence  of  a  desire  for  greater  personal  power. 
This  power  and  popularity  gave  Gaius  confidence  in  his 
own  ability  to  carry  through  to  successful  solution  a 
problem  which  had  been  the  doom  of  other  Roman  states- 
men. He  proposed  to  grant  full  rights  of  citizenship  to 
the  Latins,  and  Latin  rights  to  the  other  Italian  allies. 
In  support  of  his  measure,  Gaius  appealed  to  the  better 
nature  of  his  followers.  Yet  this  revolutionary  plan  fur- 
nished his  opponents  with  the  very  opening  they  had 
waited  for,  and  impetus  was  given  to  the  forces  of  dissen- 
sion among  his  heterogeneous  following — forces  only  held 
in  check  by  the  political  versatility  of  the  great  leader. 
It  was  suggested  to  the  populace  that  enfranchisement  of 
the  Italians  would  crowd  the  urban  proletariate  out  of  the 
almost  monopolistic  position  they  so  long  had  held  in  the 
enjoyment  of  public  gatherings,  games,  and  festivals. 
This  cunning  appeal  to  the  selfish  interests  of  the  mob  suc- 
ceeded in  alienating  many  of  Gracchus 's  followers.  The 
tribune  Drusus  threatened  to  impose  his  veto  on  the  fran- 
chise bill,  and  this  combination  of  circumstances  effec- 
tively put  an  end  to  Gaius 's  plan.  At  this  juncture,  the 
opponents  of  social  reform  made  use  of  the  moderate 
statesman  Drusus  to  advance  a  counter-colonization 
scheme  calculated  to  supplant  the  far-sighted  plan  of 
Gracchus.  From  the  point  of  view  of  popular  support, 
Gaius 's  colonization  plan  was  weak  because  it  appealed 

24  Gai.  Gra.,  6. 


76  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

to  the  interests  of  the  middle  class  alone;  moreover, 
scrutiny  into  the  personal  qualifications  of  prospective 
settlers  was  uncomfortable.  The  proposal  of  the  opposi- 
tion was  the  foundation  of  twelve  colonies  of  3000  set- 
tlers each,  where  emigrants  were  not  to  be  excluded  be- 
cause of  poverty,  and  where  no  rental  was  required.  The 
provisions  of  the  new  plan  seemed  generous,  and  the  sup- 
port it  drew  from  Gracchus 's  followers  was  enlarged  and 
strengthened  by  the  senate's  action  to  relieve  all  settlers 
on  the  Gracchian  allotments  of  rent  payments  to  the 
state.25  Another  competitive  plan  advanced  by  Drusus, 
with  the  support  of  the  senate,  was  a  law  for  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Latins.  This  was  calculated  to  remove  the 
abuses  that  Gains 's  franchise  law  had  proposed  to  over- 
come, but  avoided  the  gift  of  franchise.  These  adroit 
policies  of  legal  enactment  effectively  broke  up  the 
solidity  of  Gracchus 's  constituency. 

When  Gaius  returned  from  a  visit  to  his  Carthaginian 
colony,  during  which  he  had  personally  superintended  the 
enterprise,  he  found  the  people  apathetic  and  cold.  All 
his  old-time  eloquence  failed  to  rouse  them  from  their 
indifference — a  state  of  mind  attributable  to  satiety  pro- 
duced by  the  recent  bounty  of  the  senate.  His  last  chance 
for  a  revival  of  power  seemed  to  be  in  the  creation  of  a 
solid  party  among  the  very  poor.  His  success,  however, 
appears  to  have  been  slight,  for  at  the  next  tribunican 
election  he  was  not  returned  to  office.  Thereupon  his 
enemies  sought  to  complete  his  downfall  from  popular 
power  by  a  proposal  to  repeal  his  law  for  the  coloniza- 
tion of  Carthage.26  After  this  event,  matters  moved  rap- 

25  Greenidge,  op.  cit.,  pp.  241-2. 

2«  For  an  account  of  the  reactionary  legislation  which  followed  the  death 
of  Gaius  Gracchus,  see  Ferrero,  op.  cit.,  pp.  68-70. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  77 

idly.  The  rash  activity  of  Gracchus 's  followers  gave  the 
senate  the  opportunity  it  had  waited  for,  and  a  riot  was 
precipitated  in  which  Gaius  Gracchus  and  many  of  his 
followers  were  slain. 

The  tragic  deaths  of  the  Gracchi  elevated  their  memo- 
ries among  the  people  to  almost  godlike  proportions,  per- 
haps more  than  did  their  achievements  during  life.  ' '  The 
people,  though  humbled  and  depressed  for  a  time,  soon 
showed  how  deeply  they  felt  the  loss  of  the  Gracchi.  For 
they  had  statues  of  the  two  brothers  made  and  set  up 
in  public  places,  and  the  spots  on  which  they  fell  were 
declared  sacred  ground,  to  which  the  people  brought  all 
the  first  fruits  of  the  seasons,  and  offered  sacrifices  there 
and  worshiped  just  as  at  the  temples  of  the  gods. ' ' 27 

THE   GEACCHIAlSr   REFORMS   IN    PERSPECTIVE 

The  Gracchi  lived  and  labored  at  a  period  in  the  history 
of  Rome  when  social  and  political  questions  were  inter- 
woven with  unusual  closeness.  For  example,  the  land 
question  had  its  economic,  social,  and  political  aspects. 
The  rejuvenation  of  the  masses  could  be  promoted  by  a 
return  to  the  land.  Such  a  redistribution  of  population 
might  be  expected  to  relieve  the  problem  of  poverty  of 
the  city,  stimulate  agricultural  industry,  and  at  the  same 
time  build  Tip  a  sturdy  yeoman  class  whose  political  sig- 
nificance might  be  considerable.  But  the  farmer  is  not 
always  capable  of  exercising  his  political  function  of  vot- 
ing, for  he  is  often  far  distant  from  the  capital  and  seed- 
time and  harvest  duties  are  imperative.  These  last 
duties  so  signally  interfered  with  Tiberius 's  political  sup- 
port among  the  country  voters  that  his  promising  career 
came  to  a  disastrous  end,  while  Gaius  concluded  that  an 

27Plut.,  Gai.  Gra.,  18. 


78  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

urban  following  was  the  best  security  of  a  Roman  re- 
former. 

Two  conditions  appear  to  have  been  fatal  to  the  small 
land-holder :  the  cheapness  of  slave  labor,  and  cheap  corn 
from  the  provinces.  Modern  economists  might  conceive 
of  two  remedies  for  these  conditions:  a  tax  on  agricul- 
tural slaves,  and  an  import  duty  on  grain.  But  at  the 
time  of  the  Gracchi,  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  slave 
market  was  ever  sufficiently  well  organized  to  permit  dis- 
criminative taxation.  The  other  device  could  not  have 
been  enforced,  because  it  was  necessary  to  have  low- 
priced  grain  for  the  city  populace.  Already,  foreign 
grain  undersold  the  Italian  product,28  and  the  conse- 
quent unprofitableness  of  corn-growing  aided  the  tend- 
ency toward  land  accumulation. 

But  economic  conditions,  however  modified  by  social 
legislation,  were  not  alone  responsible  for  social  decay. 
What  was  needed  was  a  new  spirit  among  the  working 
classes.  The  attractions  of  the  great  metropolis  exer- 
cised a  constant  lure,  drawing  population  from  the  soil 
and  then  demoralizing  it  with  luxuries  and  feverish  at- 
mosphere. The  stern  national  psychology  that  feared 
neither  hard  work  nor  privation,  a  state  of  mind  which  is 
the  product  of  simple  dependence  on  nature  and  a  contin- 
ual struggle  to  gain  the  ascendancy  over  her  rougher 
forces,  had  disappeared.  Changed  economic  conditions 
and  social  relations,  although  causal  factors  in  this  trans- 
formation, could  not  be  restored  to  their  earlier  arrange- 
ment by  a  spasmodic  outburst  of  social  legislation.  Even 
had  this  been  possible,  the  normal  evolution  of  popular 
psychology,  that  secures  as  its  end  the  adaptation  of  a 
people 's  mind  to  the  basic  factors  in  their  national  econ- 

28  Greenidge,  op.  cit.,  p.  268. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  79 

omy,  is  so  slow  and  leisurely  that  generations  would  have 
had  to  pass  before  the  old  spirit  could  be  restored.  Thus 
a  survey  of  the  legislative  successes  and  failures  of  the 
Gracchi  viewed  in  the  light  of  social  evolution  only 
helps  to  deepen  the  conviction  that  preventive  legisla- 
tion which  seeks  to  direct  the  channels  of  national  char- 
acter is  preferable  to  remedial  measures  which  are 
necessarily  superficial. 

The  colonization  scheme,  probably  intended  to  re- 
habilitate the  commercial  and  industrial  classes,  pene- 
trated to  the  very  core  of  the  social  problem,  for  the  dis- 
placed yeoman  farmers  did  not  transfer  their  energies  to 
commerce  and  industry,  but  drifted  into  the  idle  habits 
of  the  metropolitan  rabble.  If  interest  in  commerce  and 
industry  could  have  been  revived  by  the  establishment  of 
new  centers  of  activity,  then  the  national  ruin  threatened 
by  such  a  sinister  combination  of  circumstances  as  agra- 
rian depression  and  commercial  and  industrial  decline 
might  have  been  averted.  But  it  was  not  to  be,  for  such 
reforms  needed  the  political  support  of  the  capitalistic 
class,  whose  monopolistic  self-interests  were  directly  op- 
posed to  any  effort  which  might  revive  the  fortunes  of 
their  competitors,  the  traders  of  moderate  means. 

The  historical  importance  of  the  social  program  of 
Gaius  Gracchus  is  emphasized  by  Greenidge  when  he 
says :  "The  items  of  reform,  as  embodied  in  his  legisla- 
tion, became  the  constant  factors  in  every  democratic 
program  which  was  to  be  issued  in  the  future.  In  these 
we  see  the  demand  for  land,  for  colonial  assignations,  for 
transmarine  settlements,  for  a  renewal  or  extension  of 
the  corn  law,  perpetually  recurring. ' ' 29 

29  Op.  tit.,  p.  277. 


80  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

PUBLIC   BELIEF   IN   ROME 

Let  us  confine  our  study  to  a  brief  outline  of  later  de- 
velopments that  followed  in  the  wake  of  Gaius's  lex 
frumentaria.  However  uncertain  our  knowledge  of  pro- 
visions for  discriminate  administration  of  this  law,  there 
is  certainly  no  doubt  of  the  essentially  lax  execution  of 
later  modifications  of  the  law.  The  lex  frumentaria  was 
followed  by  the  lex  Octavia,  which  restricted  the  monthly 
sale  to  citizens  settled  in  Rome  to  five  modii  (l1^  bushels) . 
This  allowance  appears  practically  to  have  been  a  main- 
tenance, since  Polybius  informs  us  that  the  support  of  the 
slave  and  soldier,  respectively  ,  was  five  and  four  modii 
a  month.  In  58  B.C.  the  lex  Clodia  made  corn  free  to  the 
plebs  urbana.  By  5  B.C.  this  policy  of  state-promoted  pau- 
perization had  reached  such  proportions  that  320,000  per- 
sons were  in  receipt  of  corn.  Caesar  reduced  the  num- 
ber to  150,000,  but  by  Augustus 's  time  a  maximum  of  per- 
haps 320,000  had  again  been  reached.  The  lists  of  re- 
cipients in  Caesar's  time  were  probably  settled  by  lot,30 
and  the  enormous  figure  given  was,  likely  as  not,  con- 
siderably reduced  by  a  property  test  and  some  kind  of 
scrutiny.31  The  distribution  of  grain  was  systematized 
by  publishing  the  names  of  certified  recipients,  and  by 
providing  identification  tickets.  During  the  republic, 
corn  or  bread  was  distributed  at  the  temple  of  Ceres,  and 
later  the  practice  was  continued  at  certain  steps  in  each 
of  the  fourteen  wards  of  Rome.  By  the  middle  of  the 
second  century,  wheaten  loaves  were  baked  for  the  peo- 
ple in  state  bakeries,  and  given  out  several  times  a  week. 
"In  Aurelian's  time  (A.D.  270)  the  flour  was  of  the  best, 
and  the  weight  of  the  loaf  (one  uncia)  was  doubled.  To 

«o  Suet.  CCBS.,  41.  si  Lock,  op.  tit.,  p.  95. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  81 

the  gifts  of  bread  were  added  pork,  oil,  and  possibly  wine, 
clothes,  also  white  tunics  with  long  sleeves,  were  dis- 
tributed. In  the  period  after  Constantine  (d.  337,  of 
Theod,  Code,  xiv,  15)  three  classes  received  bread;  the 
palace  people  (palatini),  soldiers  (militares),  and  the 
populace  (popular 'es)."32 

These  commodities  were  distributed  at  the  proper  steps 
of  each  class  of  recipients  in  the  several  wards.  Stale 
loaves  might  be  exchanged  in  accordance  with  regular 
provisions.  Severe  penalties  against  misappropriation 
were  provided,  designed  to  limit  the  application  of  the 
law  to  the  needy  proletariate,  and  aiming  to  discourage 
dependence  on  the  part  of  richer  classes.  Only  citizens 
could  receive  this  relief,  and  the  right  became  hereditary. 
At  the  time  of  the  founding  of  Constantinople,  right  to 
relief  was  attached  to  new  houses,  that  building  opera- 
tions might  be  encouraged.  Thus  attached  to  property, 
the  right  to  relief  was  acquired  by  the  purchaser  (aedes 
sequantur  annonae).  The  consequence  of  this  indiscrim- 
inate civic  bounty  was  the  creation  of  a  body  of  poor 
citizens  who  were  accustomed  to  throw  themselves  flat 
on  public  charity.  This  dole-giving  practice  spread  from 
Rome,  and  was  introduced  into  Constantinople,  Alexan- 
dria, and  Antioch  with  demoralizing  results.33 

The  baleful  results  of  dole-giving  may  be  traced 
through  the  period  of  the  empire.34  A  natural  outgrowth 
of  the  vicious  system  was  the  obligation  of  the  hard- 
working to  maintain  an  increasing  number  of  idlers. 

32  Ibid.,  p.  96. 

33  IUd.,  pp.  97-98. 

s*  Davis,  W.  S. — Influence  of  Wealth  in  Imperial  Rome,  p.  195 — estimates 
the  population  of  Rome  at  the  time  of  the  fall  of  the  republic  as  over  one 
million.  This  seems  reasonable,  since  other  estimates  vary  from  870,000  to 
eight  million. 


82  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Suetonius  has  given  us  a  picture  of  the  degree  to  which 
this  practice  had  become  intrenched  by  the  time  of  Augus- 
tus. "Once  at  the  time  of  a  great  failure  of  crops,  when 
it  was  difficult  to  provide  relief,  Augustus  ordered  expul- 
sion from  the  city  of  slaves  who  were  exposed  for  sale,  of 
schools  of  fencing-masters,  and  all  foreign  residents,  ex- 
cept physicians  and  teachers,  and,  above  all,  of  domestic 
slaves,  so  that  at  last  the  supply  of  corn  became  cheaper. 
At  that  time,  he-  wrote  that  he  was  inclined  to  abolish 
forever  the  public  distribution  of  corn,  for  the  people 
had  come  to  rely  upon  it  and  ceased  to  till  the  fields ;  but 
he  had  not  proceeded  further  in  the  matter  because  he 
was  sure  that,  from  a  desire  to  please  the  people,  it  would 
be  revived  at  one  time  or  another.  After  that  time,  he 
managed  so  that  as  much  consideration  was  given  to 
farmers  and  traders  as  to  the  multitude."35 

In  the  early  years  of  the  first  century,  the  people  raised 
such  a  complaint  against  the  high  price  of  corn  that 
Tiberius  (14-37  A.D.)  fixed  the  retail  price,  and  compen- 
sated the  traders  with  a  promise  to  add  two  sesterces 
(4  cents)  on  every  peck  sold.36  Later,  in  37-41  A.D.,  Cali- 
gula distributed  300  sesterces 37  per  capita  to  the  people 
at  two  different  times.  It  was  during  a  period  of  scar- 
city that  the  mob  attacked  Claudius  (41-54  A.D.)  and  threw 
bread  at  him.  To  avoid  a  recurrence  of  this  indignity, 
Claudius  adopted  every  means  to  ensure  the  continuous 
importation  of  food  throughout  the  winter  months,  and 
even  agreed  to  indemnify  corn  merchants  who  suffered 

35  Suet.,  Augustus,  42. 

so  Tacitus,  Annals,  ii,  87,  of  xv,  18;  Church  and  Broddrib's  trans. 

37  Davis,  op.  cit.,  p.  11,  assigns  the  following  value  to  Roman  coins  during 
the  empire:  sesterce  =  4  cents;  denarius  =16  cents;  and  talent,  about 
$1,000,000. 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  83 

loss  by  storm.38  Vespasian  (69-79  A.D.),  whose  liberality 
to  all  classes  of  the  people  was  extreme,  was  obliged  to 
refuse  a  mechanical  contrivance  for  moving  immense 
columns  into  the  capital  because  he  feared  that  the  labor- 
saving  device  would  take  employment  from  the  populace, 
whose  maintenance  he  had  assumed.  Thus  the  dole-giv- 
ing had  been  carried  to  such  lengths  that  inventive  abil- 
ity, outside  the  ranks  of  its  demoralized  beneficiaries,  was 
discouraged.  Lock  comments  upon  the  dole-giving  thus : 
"In  amount,  the  Roman  dole  seems  to  have  been  equiva- 
lent to  the  allowance  provided  for  a  slave,  but  the  citizen 
received  it  without  having  to  do  any  labor  task.  He  re- 
ceived it  as  a  statutory  right.  There  could  hardly  be  a 
more  effective  method  for  degrading  his  manhood  and 
denaturalizing  his  family.  He  was  also  a  voter,  and  the 
alms  appealed  to  his  weakness  and  indolence;  and  the 
fear  of  displeasing  him  and  losing  his  vote  kept  him, 
socially,  master  of  the  situation. ' ' 39 

Pliny40  refers  to  a  plan  for  the  relief  of  children  of 
citizens  which  developed  as  private  charity  and  after- 
wards became  imperial  bounty.  It  evidently  helped  to 
supplement  the  practice  of  dole-giving.  Nerva  and  Tra- 
jan made  use  of  it.  Special  relief  was  granted  to  chil- 
dren whose  names  appeared  on  the  relief  tables  at  Rome. 
At  Velia  and  Beneventum,  instances  of  relief  are  recorded 
in  inscriptions.  It  appears  that  the  emperor  lent  money 
at  the  low  rate  of  2%  or  5  per  cent.  In  the  former 
place,  the  loan  amounted  to  1,044,000  sesterces.  Security 
for  the  debt  was  provided  by  51  local  landowners  who 
mortgaged  holdings  valued  at  13  or  14  million  sesterces. 

38  Suet.,  Claudius,  18,  21.  *o  Ep.  vii,  18. 

39  Op.  cit.,  p.  99. 


84  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Some  300  children  were  aided  out  of  the  interest  upon 
the  emperor's  money  paid  into  the  municipal  treasury. 
The  administration  of  the  fund  was  under  the  local  man- 
agement of  quaestores  alimentarii,  and  high  officials  acted 
as  patrons.  The  emperors  Antonius  Pius  (A.D.  138), 
Marcus  Aurelius  (A.D.  160),  and  Severus  (A.D.  192)  es- 
tablished these  funds  in  the  names  of  their  wives.  By  the 
third  century,  the  system  fell  out  of  practise.41 


Corresponding  to  the  dole-giving,  or  public  charity  of 
Borne,  was  the  sportula,  or  private  liberality.  We  have 
had  occasion  already  to  point  out  the  fact  that  Gaius 
Gracchus,  in  his  lex  frumentaria,  merely  transferred  from 
the  numerous  private  sources  of  largess  to  the  city,  the 
obligation  to  support  the  poverty-stricken  populace  by 
distribution  of  grain.  It  is  now  important  to  examine  the 
private  practices  of  liberality,  in  order  that  we  may  round 
out  our  conception  of  Roman  charity. 

Between  patron  and  client,  a  relation  partly  hospitable, 
partly  charitable,  had  grown  up.  At  rare  intervals,  there 
was  an  invitation  to  the  humblest  seat  at  the  dinner- 
table.42  It  was  customary  for  presents  of  food  to  be  given 
to  clients  and  shabby  gentlemen  at  the  outer  vestibule 
of  the  house.  The  recipients  of  this  liberality  carried  it 
away  in  baskets  (sportulae).  Connected  with  this  prac- 
tice was  considerable  fraud,  which  the  patron  or  his 
steward  attempted  to  check  by  keeping  a  list  of  persons 
entitled  to  receive  the  aid.  ' '  The  pilferer  grabs  the  dole ' ' 
became  a  proverb.  There  seems  to  have  been  little  hesi- 
tation at  stooping  to  cringing  servility  when  receiving 
this  insulting  form  of  hospitality.  Freedom  from  the 

4i  Lock,  op.  (At.,  pp.  107-109.  42  Davis,  op.  cit.,  pp.  269-70. 


85 


AGRARIAN  CONDITIONS  87 

necessity  of  labor  was  still  the  ideal,  and  the  sportula 
provided  the  means  for  keeping  the  hands  from  toil.  The 
sportula  grew  to  be  a  private  charity  of  such  proportions 
that  state  regulation  was  attempted  in  54  A.D.  by  Nero, 
who  reduced  it  to  a  payment  in  money  (about  $5.00),  and 
in  81  A.D.  by  Domitian,  who  restored  the  custom  of  free 
distribution. 

Private  beneficence  of  wealthy  Romans  found  other 
channels  than  largess  to  clients  and  political  supporters. 
It  was  customary  to  make  lavish  expenditures  on  public 
improvements,  games  and  popular  amusements.  Abbott 
says  it  was  characteristic  of  ancient  generosity  or  philan- 
thropy "that  its  recipients  are  commonly  the  people  of  a 
single  town,  usually  the  donor 's  native  town. " 43  During 
his  term  as  cedile,  or  commissioner  of  public  works,  Caesar 
bankrupted  himself  by  prodigal  expenditures.  This  an- 
cient practice  of  private  benefaction  lost  its  voluntary 
character  in  time,  and  eventually  became  a  legal  obliga- 
tion resting  on  public  officials.44  When  the  city  of  Urso 
was  founded  in  44  B.C.,  the  municipal  charter  required 
that  its  chief  magistrate  should  give  public  entertain- 
ments for  four  days  in  honor  of  the  gods,  at  an  expense 
of  not  less  than  two  thousand  sesterces.45  This  practice 
is  the  reverse  of  our  modern  custom,  since  our  public  offi- 
cials are  salaried.  Abbott  considers  that  these  expendi- 
tures may  be  roughly  compared  with  the  "campaign  con- 
tributions ' '  of  candidates  for  office  in  the  United  States 46 
Besides  this  private  provision  for  public  amusement, 
statues,  baths,  porticos,  or  fountains  were  sometimes 

43  The  Common  People  of  Ancient  Rome,  1911,  pp.  185-6. 

44  Ibid.,  p.  193. 

45  Ibid.,  p.  194;  Corpus  Inscriptionum  Latinarum,  ii,  5439. 
*e  Op.  cit.,  p.  195? 


88  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

given.  A  citizen  of  Lanuvium,  near  Rome,  cleansed  and 
restored  the  water  mains  for  a  distance  of  three  miles,  re- 
placed the  pipes  in  position,  and  restored  baths  for  men 
and  women,  all  at  his  own  expense.47 

Such  an  intolerable  burden  did  this  custom  of  bene- 
faction become  eventually  that,  as  early  as  the  first  cen- 
tury A.D.,  it  proved  necessary  to  resort  to  ingenious  de- 
vices to  compel  men  to  hold  public  office.  A  member  of 
the  town  council  was  expected  to  contribute  to  the  main- 
tenance and  support  of  his  native  city,  as  well  as  to  collect 
the  imperial  taxes.  Says  Abbott:  "As  prosperity  de- 
clined, he  found  this  an  increasingly  difficult  thing  to  do, 
and  seats  in  the  local  senate  were  undesirable.  The  cen- 
tral government  could  not  allow  men  responsible  for  its 
revenues  to  escape  their  responsibility.  Consequently  it 
interposed,  and  forced  them  to  accept  the  honor.  Some 
of  them  enlisted  in  the  army,  or  even  fled  into  the  desert, 
but  whenever  they  were  found,  they  were  brought  back  to 
take  up  their  positions  again.  In  the  fourth  century, 
service  in  the  common  council  was  even  made  a  penalty 
imposed  upon  criminals.  Finally  it  became  hereditary, 
and  it  is  an  amusing  but  a  pathetic  thing  to  find  that  this 
honor,  so  highly  prized  in  the  early  period,  became  in  the 
end  a  form  of  serfdom. ' ' 48 

47  Wilmanna,  Exempla  Inscriptionum  Latinarum,  1772. 

48  Op.  cit.,  p.  202. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY 

SLAVERY  in  Rome  was  a  highly  organized  institution,  far 
more  systematized  than  it  ever  had  been  in  Greece.  It 
became  a  great  industrial  force  underlying  the  economic 
activities  of  the  nation.  In  our  age  of  machine  power,  it 
is  difficult  to  appreciate  how  essential  slave  labor  was  in 
ancient  times.  The  slave  performed  work  which  is  done 
for  us  by  machinery.  All  heavy,  large-scale,  agricul- 
tural labor  was  performed  by  slaves.  They  did  the  hard 
work  in  factories ;  carried  on  the  household  drudgery,  and 
were  worked  long  hours  in  mines.  When  fair  winds  did 
not  blow,  slave-power  was  used  to  row  the  galleys.  The 
extention  of  Roman  domain  necessitated  the  use  of  a 
larger  army,  and  this  involved  the  increasing  absence  of 
citizens  from  industrial  labor.  Consequently,  the  demand 
for  slave  labor  grew  apace  and  many  slaves  were  ob- 
tained in  the  course  of  conquest.  We  have  records  of  how 
captives  taken  at  certain  periods  were  sold  as  slaves. 
During  the  time  of  the  later  republic,  captives  were  in- 
variably reduced  to  slavery.  After  the  victories  of 
Paulus  in  Epirus,  150,000  captives  were  sold.1  It  is 
stated  that  Caesar  sold  on  one  occasion  as  many  as  63,000 
captives.2  During  the  Jewish  war,  97,000  captives  were 
sold  as  slaves. 

In  time,  a  regular  commerce  in  slaves  was  established. 
Its  systematic  organization  indicates  a  complete  change 

i  Liv.,  xlv,  34.  2  De  Bella  Gall.,  Hi,  16. 

89 


90  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

from  the  primitive  methods  of  acquiring  slaves.  At  De- 
los,  pirates  sold  great  numbers  of  slaves.3  Slaves  were 
imported  to  Rome  from  Africa,  Spain,  and  Gaul,  but  more 
generally  from  the  Asiatic  countries  of  Bithynia,  Galatia, 
and  from  Cappadocia,  and  Syria.  Import  duties  were 
paid  on  these  slaves,  and  a  tax  of  from  two  to  four  per 
cent,  was  levied  upon  their  sale.4  But  conquest  was  not 
the  only  source  of  slaves.  Certain  offenses  were  pun- 
ished by  reducing  the  guilty  person  to  slavery.  Such  per- 
sons were  then  used  in  public  works,  either  at  quarries  or 
mines.  In  the  earlier  days,  the  father  could  sell  his  chil- 
dren into  slavery.  The  creditor  could  retain  his  debtor 
as  a  slave,  and  even  sell  him  outside  the  city.  The  re- 
volt of  493  B.C.  was  caused  by  the  enslavement  of  creditors 
overwhelmed  with  usury  that  had  resulted  from  losses 
by  the  hostile  raids,  or  from  their  own  absence  during 
military  service. 

Besides  private  slaves,  there  were  public  slaves.  At 
first  free  men  performed  the  services  required  by  the  mag- 
istrates, but  later  the  offices  of  couriers  and  attendants 
at  the  law  courts,  prisons,  and  temples  were  filled  by 
slaves.  Public  works  were  carried  on  by  slave  labor,  such 
as  the  construction  of  roads,  the  maintenance  of  aque- 
ducts, and  the  cleaning  of  the  city  sewers.  Slaves  did  the 
heavy  work  for  private  families.  Not  only  in  Rome,  but 
also  in  rural  and  provincial  towns,  hard  labor  was  per- 
formed by  the  slaves.  The  wealthy  Roman  usually 
bought  two  kinds  of  slaves,  the  familia  rustica  and  the 
familia  urbana.  The  former,  the  agricultural  slaves, 
were  under  direction  of  a  villicus,  or  slave-superin- 
tendent. Slaves  were  divided  into  several  groups;  those 
caring  for  the  cattle,  the  flocks,  and  the  stables,  and 

3  Strabo,  xiv,  668.  *  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  39. 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY  91 

those  preparing  food,  making  clothing,  making  tools,  and 
repairing  buildings. 

Slaves  were  employed  to  punish  delinquent  slaves  held 
in  the  slave  prisons  of  rural  establishments.  Slaves  car- 
ried on  the  domestic  work,  performed  the  services  of  the 
toilet  and  the  bath,  waited  upon  table,  worked  in  the 
kitchen,  and,  in  addition,  entertained  the  master  of  the 
house  and  his  guests  by  singing,  dancing,  and  other  arts. 
Some  acted  as  attendants  to  master  and  mistress  when 
out  of  doors.  As  these  were  posts  of  honor,  only  those 
noted  for  their  beauty  or  strength,  and  those  most  im- 
posing in  their  appearance,  were  selected.  The  more  in- 
telligent slaves  attached  to  a  great  household  served  as 
physicians,  secretaries,  librarians,  copyists,  artists,  and 
teachers.  Gladiators  and  circus  performers  were  com- 
monly slaves.  Private  speculators  who  owned  troupes  of 
gladiators  frequently  hired  them  out. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  number  of  slaves  serving  in- 
dividual masters  was  quite  large.  For  our  knowledge  of 
the  actual  number  of  slaves  attached  to  the  private  mas- 
ters of  these  great  establishments,  we  must  rely  upon 
casual  references  by  classic  authors.  It  is  said  that  Vet- 
tius,  upon  entering  a  revolt,  armed  four  hundred  of  his 
own  slaves.5  Pliny  relates  that  a  freeman  living  in  the 
time  of  Augustus  left  4116  slaves  by  his  will.6  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  determine  the  total  number  of  slaves  at  Rome  or 
in  Italy.  One  authority  fixes  the  ratio  of  slaves  to  free- 
men during  the  period  146  B.C.  to  235  A.D.  as  three  to  one. 
Thus  the  total  number  of  slaves  in  Italy  would  have  been 
about  20,832,000,  and  the  free  population  about  6,944,000 
during  the  reign  of  Claudius.7 

8  Diod.,  Fr.,  xxxvi ;  ii,  3.  7  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  43. 

«  Hist.,  Nat.,  xxxiii,  47. 


92  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

TREATMENT   OF   SLAVES 

Since  the  patriarch  of  the  early  Roman  family  had  life 
and  death  power  over  all  his  descendants,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  the  original  Eoman  law  gave  the  master 
complete  power  of  life  and  death  over  his  slaves.  What- 
ever the  slave  acquired  by  way  of  property,  was  legally 
his  master's,  though  in  practice  he  was  allowed  to  accu- 
mulate chance  earnings  or  savings,  known  as  his  peculium. 
Under  the  law,  slaves  could  not  contract  marriages.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  there  was  public  sanction  for  their  co- 
habitation, which  practically  amounted  to  a  recognition  of 
marriage.  Penalties  for  crime  were  more  severe  on 
guilty  slaves  than  on  guilty  freemen.  While  the  punish- 
ment given  under  the  Lex  Cornelia  for  the  murder  of  a 
slave  or  freeman  was  the  same,  the  master  was  permitted 
to  kill  his  own  slave  with  impunity. 

Although  many  Latin  authors  recommend  friendliness 
towards  one's  slaves,  the  rapid  extension  of  the  great 
slave  estates,  or  Latifundia,  throughout  the  rural  sections 
reduced  each  slave  to  the  position  of  a  mere  number,  and 
it  became  impossible  for  masters  to  know  their  slaves  in- 
dividually. Overseers  were  used  as  superintendents  and 
chains  were  resorted  to,  in  order  that  the  slaves  might 
work  in  groups  in  the  fields.  These  chains  were  even 
worn  at  night  while  the  slaves  slept.8  This  harsh  treat- 
ment of  the  rural  slaves  was  also  found  in  the  treatment 
of  urban  slaves. 

Although  the  life  of  rural  slaves  was  generally  difficult, 
it  is  probable  that  the  treatment  accorded  to  the  urban 
slaves  was  as  little  enviable.  Ovid  speaks  of  the  porter 
as  being  chained  in  private  houses.  The  punishments 

s  Pliny,  xviii,  iv,  4,  5,  and  vii,  4. 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY  93 

which  masters  inflicted  on  their  slaves  varied.  The 
milder  punishments  consisted  in  personal  chastisement, 
and  in  banishment  to  rural  labor.  The  more  severe  pun- 
ishments were  employment  in  the  mines  or  quarries.  In 
the  time  of  the  republic,  a  master  might  send  his  slave  to 
fight  wild  beasts  in  the  amphitheater.  Some  masters  were 
excessively  cruel  and  portioned  out  severe  punishments 
for  trivial  mistakes,  or  even  accidents.  Ordinarily,  his 
interest  led  a  master  to  avoid  extremely  harsh  treatment, 
but  when  the  slave  had  passed  the  working  age,  his  lot 
was  likely  to  be  a  hard  one. 

•  In  the  period  of  the  later  republic  and  under  the  early 
empire,  the  large  number  of  slaves  was  a  constant  men- 
ace to  peace.  There  was  a  conspiracy  among  the  slaves 
about  500  B.C.,  and  another  about  400  B.C.  A  formidable 
insurrection  came  near  to  breaking  out  in  498  B.C.  Slave 
wars  broke  out  in  Sicily  and  Italy.9  During  the  reign 
of  Nero,  there  were  threatening  movements  of  slaves. 
Even  in  the  later  stages  of  the  empire,  the  danger  of  serv- 
ile insurrection  had  not  passed.  When  the  Goths  in- 
vaded Italy,  their  armies  were  swelled  by  some  of  their 
countrymen  who  had  been  slaves  in  Rome.  Forty  thou- 
sand slaves  went  over  to  Alaric  when  he  laid  siege  to 
Rome. 

The  moral  influence  of  slavery  was  most  degrading,  be- 
cause the  teachers  of  children  were  slaves.  They  tended 
to  corrupt  the  youth  by  flattery  and  encouraged  self- 
indulgence  instead  of  disciplining  their  unruly  charges. 
It  is  probable  that  the  barbarous  spectacle  of  the  am- 
phitheater was  popular  because  of  the  hardening  effect  of 
the  degrading  system  of  slavery  which  had  accustomed 
the  people  to  brutality. 

»  Plut,  Sull.  9  Sail.  Cat.  24,  56. 


94  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

THE   DECLINE   OF   THE   SLAVE   SYSTEM 

In  general,  slaves  were  more  easily  emancipated  in 
Rome  than  in  Greece.  There  were  two  kinds  of  manu- 
mission. Under  the  Justa,  or  regular  method,  there  were 
four  modes:  first,  by  adoption;  second,  by  testament; 
third,  in  the  time  of  Vespasian,  by  inscribing  the  slave's 
name  on  the  roll  of  citizens  and  making  presentation  to 
the  census  or  to  the  censor ;  fourth,  the  more  usual  form, 
by  vindicta.  According  to  this  last  mode,  the  master  said 
"liber  esto,"  in  the  presence  of  the  same  magistrate. 
Under  the  second  form  of  manumission,  the  minus  Justa, 
the  master  merely  manifested  good-will  by  some  formal 
act  before  his  friends,  which  signified  his  intention  to 
liberate  the  slave.  Of  course  this  latter  form  was  extra- 
legal. 

After  liberation,  the  freeman  became  the  client  of  his 
master.  In  this  relation  the  master  must  protect  the  free- 
man and  defend  him  in  the  courts,  while  on  his  part,  the 
freeman  took  the  master's  name,  paid  him  deference,  and 
lent  actual  pecuniary  aid.  If  it  happened  that  the  free- 
man died  intestate,  his  patron  received  his  property  at 
death.  Although  it  was  not  until  after  three  full  genera- 
tions of  freemen  that  the  descendants  of  the  freemen  be- 
came free  citizens,  yet  in  this  way  the  slave  element  in  the 
population  tended  to  be  slowly  assimilated.  It  is  esti- 
mated that  in  Cicero's  time  the  thrifty  slave  could  save 
enough  peculium  in  six  years  to  purchase  his  freedom. 
About  3  A.D.,  we  find  that  the  law  prohibited  manumission, 
except  in  certain  specified  cases  and  about  7  A.D.,  the  pro- 
portion of  a  man's  slaves  which  he  could  liberate  by  testa- 
ment was  fixed  by  the  law.  Freemen  gained  steadily  in 
influence  in  the  time  of  the  empire  and  were  gradually  ad- 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY  95 

mitted  to  the  rank  of  certain  magistrates  of  minor  im- 
portance. Administrative  services  were  frequently  filled 
by  the  freemen. 

The  institution  of  slavery  underwent  a  marked  change 
during  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era.  More 
and  more,  principles  of  liberality  and  humanity  were  ap- 
plied to  the  slave  classes.  Some  of  the  philosophers  con- 
demned the  cruelty  of  the  gladiatorial  combats.  As  the 
age  of  conquest  passed,  the  supply  of  slaves  could  not  be 
increased,  and  each  slave  became  of  greater  value.  Con- 
sequently, Rome  favored  a  policy  of  manumission.  The 
emperors  understood  that,  since  warlike  activities  were 
on  the  wane  and  industrial  activities  on  the  increase,  it 
was  desirable  to  facilitate  the  work  of  the  laboring  classes. 
The  general  tendency  of  the  law  was  to  make  the  lot  of 
the  slave  easier,  and  to  facilitate  manumissions.  For  ex- 
ample, an  edict  of  Diocletian  prohibited  a  freeman  from 
selling  himself  into  slavery,  and  a  man  caught  stealing 
was  punished  by  death.  The  position  of  the  insolvent 
debtor  was  made  easier  after  the  annulment  of  slave  sales, 
since  the  slave,  his  parents  and  family,  must  be  returned 
to  the  seller.  Thus  families  were  saved  from  being 
broken  up.  In  the  time  of  Hadrian,  the  right  of  power 
of  life  and  death  was  taken  away  from  masters.  Slaves 
who  ran  away  from  their  masters  because  of  excessive 
cruelty  were  brought  back,  and  could  be  sold  to  new 
masters;  they  were  not  returned  to  their  old  masters. 
The  master  who  killed  his  slave  without  just  reason  re- 
ceived the  same  punishment  as  if  he  had  killed  another 
man's  slave.10 

The  expansion  of  Christianity  in  the  Roman  world  fa- 
vored humane  treatment  of  the  lower  classes.  Yet  slav- 

10  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  63. 


96 

ery  was  such  a  fundamental  system  in  the  Roman  eco- 
nomic structure  that  no  immediate  or  complete  change  to 
freedom  could  be  hoped  for.  The  institution  of  slavery 
was  deeply  rooted  in  Roman  society,  and  many  years  had 
to  elapse  before  new  customs  and  organization  could  re- 
place the  old. 

SERFDOM 

Between  the  great  industrial  system  of  slavery  as  it  ex- 
isted in  the  ancient  times,  and  the  system  of  free  labor 
to  which  we  are  accustomed  to-day,  there  was  an  inter- 
mediate stage  known  as  " serfdom.'*  This  transitional 
state  was  favored  by  a  number  of  conditions  enumerated 
by  the  economist  Ingram.11 

In  the  first  place,  the  Roman  era  of  conquest  having 
reached  its  completion,  the  supply  of  slaves  diminished. 
The  regular  importation  of  slaves  from  conquered  terri- 
tories fell  off.  Since  the  diminished  supply  of  slaves  had 
enhanced  the  value  of  each,  the  effect  was  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  slave.  It  became  of  interest  to  each  fam- 
ily to  keep  its  hereditary  slaves.  This  favored  the  tran- 
sition of  slavery  into  serfdom.  When  the  external  slave- 
trade  was  abolished,  the  internal  sales  were  ended,  and 
slaves  became  attached  to  the  soil. 

The  second  condition  favoring  the  transition  to  serf- 
dom was  the  direct  rehabilitation  of  the  free  laborer. 
From  the  second  century  and  after,  this  process  is  no- 
ticeable. In  the  public  service,  freemen  were  employed 
as  subordinates  to  magistrates  and  priests.  Other  minor 
positions  could  be  legally  filled  only  by  citizens.  Corpor- 
ations of  free  plebeians  carried  on  the  productive  indus- 
tries owned  by  the  state,  and  under  these  free  workmen 

"Pp.  72-80. 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY  97 

there  were  public  slaves.  Even  in  private  service,  the  bet- 
ter posts  were  often  held  by  freemen ;  for  example,  in  the 
higher  arts  of  medicine,  grammar,  etc.  Freemen  ap- 
peared on  the  stage  and  in  the  arena.  Although  slave- 
labor  was  mainly  employed  in  the  factories  and  work- 
shops, wealthy  persons  sometimes  hired  free  laborers. 
The  latter  often  united  in  associations  to  compete  with 
these  private  shops.  All  along,  free  persons  had  been 
found  as  tenants  on  the  great  estates,  and  occasionally 
they  hired  themselves  out  as  day-laborers  to  cultivate  the 
land.12 

The  third  condition  favoring  the  growth  of  serfdom  was 
the  existence  of  hereditary  fixity  of  occupation  and  pro- 
fession. Classes  who  worked  in  administrative  service 
must  remain  in  this  employment.  They  were  not  even 
permitted  to  marry  their  daughters  outside  of  collegia  to 
which  they  belonged.  These  obligations  were  inherited 
by  their  children.  The  fixity  of  occupations  is  indicated 
by  a  provision  that  those  who  abandoned  their  work 
should  be  sought  for,  and  forced  to  return.  In  a  few  in- 
stances, substitutes  could  be  provided,  but  in  most  cases, 
the  worker  and  his  family  were  bound  to  remain  genera- 
tion after  generation  in  the  employment  of  their  ancestors. 
The  sons  of  a  soldier  were  bound  to  follow  military  serv- 
ice. The  state  treated  the  free  man  as  its  servant  who 
might  be  required  to  furnish  money  or  labor.  This  per- 
manent fixing  of  a  man's  labor  for  him,  by  binding  his 
descendants  to  remain  in  the  same  occupation,  had  the 
advantage  of  securing  public  order,  enforcing  industrious 
habits,  and  supplying  the  financial  needs  of  the  state,  but 
individual  initiative  and  personal  independence  were  lost 
by  such  a  semi-caste  system.  Yet  the  minute  regulation 

12  Ibid.,  p.  74. 


98  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

of  labor  amounted  to  a  reduction  of  the  interval  between 
the  slave  and  the  free  man — the  latter  having,  in  some 
respects,  almost  as  little  mastery  over  himself  as  the 
slave. 

A  fourth  condition  should  be  mentioned  in  connection 
with  the  position  of  rural  slaves.  There  was  a  tendency 
for  the  rural  slave  to  be  merged  into  the  order  of  the 
coloni.  Originally,  the  Roman  colonus  was  a  freeman 
who  held  land  on  lease,  under  the  obligation  to  pay  the 
owner  a  fixed  annual  sum,  or  a  portion  of  the  produce 
of  the  land.  In  the  fourth  century  A.D.,  the  colonus  and 
his  descendants  were  bound  to  the  soil  in  order  to  check 
the  growing  tendency  of  coloni  to  desert  the  country  and 
move  to  the  city,  that  they  might  avoid  the  heavy  burden 
of  taxation  which  rural  life  entailed.  Ingram  concludes 
that  the  law  merely  met  and  extended  a  condition  of  things 
which  had  previously  existed,  when  it  recognized  this  per- 
sonal and  hereditary  fixity  of  the  rural  laborer.13  Ten- 
ants by  contract,  who  had  failed  to  pay  their  rent  and  so 
remained  indebted  to  the  landlord,  composed  a  portion  of 
the  class  of  coloni.  Another  section  of  this  class  was 
composed  of  foreign  captives,  or  emigrants  and  fugitives 
from  barbarian  migrations,  settled  upon  the  land  by  the 
power  of  the  state.  There  were  also  some  small  propri- 
etors and  poor  men  who  voluntarily  became  coloni  be- 
cause they  thought  it  would  improve  their  condition. 

These  coloni  paid  the  proprietors  a  fixed  portion  of  the 
produce,  and  gave  a  certain  amount  of  labor  on  that  part 
of  the  domain  which  the  master  kept  for  his  own  use. 
The  coloni  paid  taxes  to  the  state,  but  the  proprietor  was 
responsible  for  these  taxes.  The  position  of  the  colonus 
was  fixed  permanently ;  he  could  not  leave  His  land.  If  he 

is  IUd.,  p.  77. 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY  99 

wandered  away,  the  law  required  that  he  be  brought  back 
and  punished.  The  person  who  gave  him  asylum  must 
restore  him  and  pay  a  penalty.  This  rigid  regulation 
went  so  far  as  to  prohibit  marrying  outside  the  domain. 
The  children  of  the  colonus  must  remain  in  the  same 
status,  and  could  not  leave  the  land  to  which  they  were 
attached.  In  the  fifth  century,  the  law  provided  that  a 
colonus  who  voluntarily  came  into  an  estate,  became  for- 
ever attached  to  it.  After  living  there  thirty  years,  the 
master  of  the  domain  could  punish  the  coloni,  and  when 
they  attempted  to  escape,  could  chain  them.  In  case  of 
sale,  the  lands  of  the  colonus  were  also  transferred,  for 
they  could  not  be  separately  sold.  While  the  colonus 
could  possess  property  of  his  own,  he  had  to  obtain  the 
consent  of  the  master  before  he  could  alienate  it.  In  some 
respects,  therefore,  although  the  members  of  the  class 
were  personally  free,  they  were  nevertheless  in  a  semi- 
servile  condition.  But  the  position  of  the  colonus  was 
not  entirely  degraded.  It  was  a  considerable  advance 
upon  the  system  of  slave  cultivation  by  the  familia  rustica. 
Since  there  was  a  certain  similarity  between  the  condition 
of  the  colonus  and  that  of  the  slave,  there  tended  to  be  a 
fusion  of  the  two  groups  into  a  single  class.14 

In  addition  to  the  coloni,  there  remained  a  class  of  prae- 
dial  slaves  on  great  country  estates,  who  worked  together 
in  groups  under  the  direction  of  overseers.  Now  it  be- 
came advantageous  to  settle  certain  slaves  on  other  por- 
tions of  the  estate  granting  them  small  bits  of  land  under 
conditions  which  approximated  those  of  the  coloni. 
These  slaves  had  no  property,  and  at  first  were  entirely  at 
the  disposal  of  their  masters.  But  it  was  to  the  land- 
lord 's  interest  to  treat  them  with  a  certain  amount  of  con- 

p.  80. 


100  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

sideration,  and  they  continued  on  their  holdings  for  such 
long  periods  of  time  that  they  really  appeared  to  inherit 
them.  The  law  tried  to  prohibit  the  sale  of  these  slaves 
unless  their  land  was  sold.  Yet  after  the  invasions,  the 
legal  distinction  between  coloni  and  slave-tenants  still  con- 
tinued. In  practice,  however,  the  difference  was  not 
marked,  for  there  were  frequent  intermarriages  between 
the  two  classes  and,  by  the  end  of  the  seventh  century, 
the  distinction  between  the  two  classes  had  almost  disap- 
peared.15 

Since  the  church  favored  individual  emancipations,  the 
modification  of  the  slave  system  increased,  for  it  must  be 
remembered  that  adherents  of  the  Christian  doctrine 
were  drawn  from  all  social  ranks,  from  freemen,  serfs, 
and  slaves. 

Thus  the  causes  which  gradually  undermined  and  broke 
up  the  slave  system  were  within  the  Eoman  empire.  The 
migrations  of  the  northern  barbarians  exerted  a  minor 
influence  in  favor  of  freedom.  Tacitus  describes  a  situa- 
tion among  the  Germans  which,  although  it  was  not  chattel 
slavery,  was  a  system  in  which  servile  classes  settled  on 
definite  portions  of  the  domain  and  paid  a  fixed  share  of 
the  produce  to  its  owner.  On  the  whole,  these  influences 
were  not  as  important  as  those  already  enumerated.  The 
change  from  slavery  to  serfdom,  and  eventually  to  free 
labor,  was  one  of  the  great  peaceful  revolutions  of  history, 
and  had  a  beneficial  effect  upon  society.  Now  that  the 
serf  was  not  liable  to  separation  from  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, he  was  able  to  form  a  family  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word.  Since  he  was  allowed  by  custom  to  retain  a  por- 
tion of  his  earnings,  he  could  look  forward  to  the  time 
when  he  might  purchase  his  complete  freedom.  As  the 

id.,  p.  82. 


SANTA    BARBARA.    CALIFORNIA 

3*  Of 

THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY          101 

head  of  a  separate  household,  he  enjoyed  a  sort  of  inde- 
pendence. The  incentive  to  save  developed  habits  of  in- 
dustry, thrift,  and  self-denial.  In  this  Way  the  serf  was 
securing  a  training  which  would  fit  him  for  subsequent 
freedom. 

THE  RECRUDESCENCE  OF  SLAVERY  IN  THE  NEW  WORLD 

Although  the  institution  of  slavery  in  Europe  passed 
away  before  the  latter  part  of  the  Middle  Ages,  negro 
slavery  arose  in  connection  with  capitalistic  exploitation 
in  tropical  parts  of  the  New  World  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  During  this  period,  there  appears 
to  have  been  no  other  means  of  securing  the  labor  required 
to  produce  the  great  staples  which  Europe  demanded  of 
the  New  World.  Slavery  in  the  West  Indies  also  served 
as  a  market  for  the  products  of  the  non-slave  colonies  of 
America.16 

The  nefarious  colonial  slave-trade  in  African  negroes 
was  begun  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  Spanish  and  Portu- 
guese navigators.17  By  1619,  Dutch  traders  had  brought 
a  shipload  of  Africans  to  Jamestown,  but  found  their  best 
market  for  slaves  in  the  West  Indies.18  Some  idea  of  the 
extent  of  this  traffic  may  be  had  from  the  estimate  of 
Bryan  Edwards  19  that  the  total  import  of  negroes  into 
the  British  colonies  alone  of  America  and  the  West  Indies 
from  1680  to  1786  was  2,130,000.  The  same  authority  es- 
timates that  the  annual  import  of  African  negroes,  about 
the  year  1790,  was  38,000  by  the  British,  20,000  by  the 

IB  Callender,  G.  S. — Selections  from  the  Economic  History  of  the  United 
States,  1909,  Introduction  to  chapter  xv,  p.  738. 

i?  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  p.  141. 

is  Bruce,  P.  A. — Economic  History  of  Virginia  in  the  Seventeenth  Cen- 
tury, 1896,  vol.  ii,  ch.  xi;  and  Weedon,  W.  B. — Economic  and  Social  History 
of  Neio  England,  1890,  vol.  ii,  ch.  xii. 

19  History  of  the  West  Indies,  book  iv,  ch.  ii. 


102  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

French,  4000  by  the  Dutch,  2000  by  the  Danes,  and  10,000 
by  the  Portuguese — a  total  of  74,000. 

One  by  one,  the  peoples  of  European  nations  were 
aroused  to  the  iniquity  of  the  slave-trade,  and  the  aboli- 
tion of  this  traffic  became  a  matter  of  fact  for  Danish 
traders  in  1802,  for  British  and  American  in  1808,  for 
French  in  1818,  for  Spanish  in  1820,  and  for  Portuguese 
in  1836.  Except  for  occasional  violations,  these  dates 
probably  mark  the  end  of  the  slave-trade  in  African  ne- 
groes.20 

But  abolition  of  the  colonial  slave-trade  did  not  save 
the  United  States  from  the  incubus  of  negro  slavery. 
The  preservation  of  the  slave  system  in  America  during 
the  nineteenth  century  appears  to  have  been  due  to  the 
difficulty  of  organizing  free  labor  in  the  cotton -industry, 
the  great  staple  industry  of  the  South.  White  men  were 
capable  of  cotton  raising,  but  they  would  labor  in  the 
cotton  fields  only  as  independent  farmers.  Consequently, 
it  was  not  possible  to  produce  cotton  on  the  large  scale 
demanded  by  the  textile  industries  of  the  world.  The 
only  seeming  way  to  open  capitalistic  cultivation  of 
cotton  was  by  the  use  of  slave  labor.  Thus  a  struggle 
began  between  the  cotton  planter  and  the  independent 
farmer.  The  planter,  however,  was  able  to  offer  such  a 
high  price  for  the  best  lands  that  the  farmer  was  per- 
suaded to  sell  his  small  holding  and  take  up  cheaper  lands 
farther  west.  The  cotton  industry  then  spread  over  the 
South,  because  the  economies  of  large-scale  production 
overbalanced  the  wastes  of  inefficient  slave  labor. 

It  should  be  remembered,  as  Callender  points  out,21 
that  the  slave  system  in  America  had  its  basis  in  eco- 
nomic and  social  conditions.     Slaves  were  vastly  profit- 
so  Ingram,  op.  cit.,  pp.  154-173.  21  Op.  tit.,  pp.  738-742. 


THE  INSTITUTION  OF  SLAVERY          103 

able  to  their  owners  on  the  economic  side  because  of  the 
demand  for  labor  in  the  newly  opened  plantations  of  the 
Southwest.  As  the  area  of  new  land  adapted  to  cotton 
raising  was  gradually  taken  up,  the  value  of  slaves  in  the 
coastwise  States  first,  and  later  even  in  the  gulf  States, 
came  to  depend  upon  the  demand  for  them  in  the  South- 
west, since  their  labor  at  home  was  not  profitable  enough 
to  maintain  their  value.  The  extension  of  cotton  culture 
by  slavery  was  fast  approaching  its  termination  when  the 
Civil  War  broke  out. 

Cairnes  has  stated  thus  the  economic  reasons  for  the 
decline  of  slavery : 22  ''Because  slave  labor  is  reluctantly 
given,  and  hence  needs  constant  oversight ;  because  it  lacks 
versatility,  and  hence  is  difficult  to  reeducate  in  new  lines 
of  work ;  and  because  it  is  unskilful,  and  hence  unthrifty, 
it  is  an  extremely  wasteful  mode  of  production.  It  there- 
fore follows  that  its  permanence  and  extension  depends 
upon  the  existence  of  a  supply  of  virgin  and  unoccupied 
soil,  which  may  be  depended  upon  to  give  rich  returns 
in  spite  of  inefficient  and  wasteful  cultivation.  Just  as 
soon,  however,  as  it  becomes  necessary  to  work  the  land 
intensively  by  the  use  of  fertilizers  and  scientific  crop 
rotation,  slavery  becomes  uneconomical  and  must  give 
way  to  intelligent  individual  methods  of  farming.*' 

On  the  other  hand,  the  social  basis  of  slavery  in  the 
South  was  much  stronger  and  more  permanent  than  its 
economic  basis.  The  danger  of  liberating  slaves  and 
leaving  them  as  part  of  southern  society  was  recognized, 
although  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  demoralizing  economic 
and  social  effects  of  the  continuance  of  the  institution 
received  much  thought.  It  is  a  superficial  explanation  of 
the  backwardness  and  poverty  of  the  South  as  compared 

22  The  Slave  Power,  1861,  pp.  38-39,  40-45. 


104  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

with  the  North  which  traces  the  inefficient  and  unenter- 
prising character  of  southern  industry  to  the  stigma 
which  slavery  attaches  to  manual  labor.  For  it  should  be 
noted  that  slavery,  as  the  principal  system  of  labor,  at  no 
time  occupied  more  than  a  fraction  of  southern  terri- 
tory.23 It  was  customary  for  the  slaveholder  to  work 
in  the  fields  as  a  farmer  beside  his  sons  and  his  slaves. 

Economists  now  regard  the  most  important  injury  the 
South  sustained  from  negro  slavery  to  be  the  checking  of 
accumulation  of  capital.  Southern  industry  was  unable 
to  secure  local  capital  and  therefore  had  to  rely  upon 
northern  capital.  Manufacturing  failed  to  develop  be- 
cause of  lack  of  capital  to  underwrite  it.  There  was  no 
serious  lack  of  labor  or  enterprise.  This  scarcity  of 
capital  perpetuated  a  rude  backwoods  and  frontier  or- 
ganization of  society  which  was  chiefly  responsible  for 
rendering  the  population  shiftless  and  inefficient,  and 
keeping  it  so. 

Slavery  appears  to  have  been  accountable  for  this  lack 
of  accumulation  of  capital  because  it  discouraged  the  dis- 
position to  save.  Employment  of  slave  labor  by  planters 
tended  to  concentrate  the  wealth  of  the  country  in  their 
hands,  and  the  social  conditions  of  class  differentiation, 
fostered  by  the  slave  system,  encouraged  planters  to  use 
this  wealth  in  extravagant  living,  rather  than  to  save  and 
accumulate  capital.  As  a  class,  the  planters  consumed 
wealth  and  were  not  interested  in  investing  it  in  commer- 
cial or  industrial  enterprises.  Thus,  slavery  prevented 
the  diffusion  among  the  people  of  that  prosperity  which 
flowed  from  the  economic  resource  of  cotton,  and  caused 
all  this  great  Wealth  to  be  absorbed  chiefly  by  the  planter 
class. 

23  Callender,  op.  cit. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR l 

BETWEEN  plutocracy  on  the  one  hand  and  slavery  on  the 
other,  the  Roman  middle  classes  were  ground  to  pieces 
and  their  initiative  strangled.2  Yet  in  the  period  of  the 
republic,  there  was  sufficient  specialization  in  manufac- 
turing processes  to  create  a  considerable  division  of  labor, 
and  gilds  of  workmen  and  traders  (collegia)  multiplied 
without  restraint.3  It  is  impossible  to  satisfactorily  trace 
the  growth  of  gilds  at  this  time  because  information  is 
lacking,4  but  at  the  time  of  the  empire  our  sources  of  in- 
formation about  workingmen's  organizations  are  more 
abundant.  Indeed,  there  are  some  twenty-five  hundred 
inscriptions  dealing  with  this  subject.  In  the  city  of 
Rome  alone,  there  were  eighty  different  trades  whose 
workers  were  organized  into  gilds.  There  were  skilled 
and  unskilled  workmen,  porters,  and  goldsmiths,  and  deal- 
ers in  oil,  wine,  fish,  grain,  perfumes,  hay,  and  rags,  all 
organized  into  societies.  We  find  gild  inscriptions  from 
four  hundred  and  seventy-five  towns  and  villages  in  the 
empire.  In  the  Greek  portion  of  the  Roman  dominion 
five  gilds  were  in  Tralles,  Caria,  six  in  Smyrna,  one  in 

1  Dill,  S.,  Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  Marcus  Aurelius,  London,  1905, 
pp.  251-286;  Davis,  op.  cit.,  ch.  v;  Abbott,  op.  cit.,  pp.  215-234. 

2  Dill,  S. — Roman  Society,  Last  Century  of  the  Western  Empire,  London, 
1899,  pp.  245-281. 

3  Dill,  op.  cit.,  p.  254. 

*  Abbott,  op.  cit.,  p.  216. 

105 


106  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Alexandria  and  eleven  in  Hierapolis,  Phrygia.  At  Home, 
there  were  more  than  one  hundred,  and  in  other  Italian 
cities  in  proportion. 

ANCIENT    AND    MODERN    ORGANIZATIONS    OF    LABOR 

Ancient  gilds,  such  as  existed  during  the  Roman  Em- 
pire, were  organizations  of  men  working  in  the  same 
trade,  but  here  similarity  to  modern  trade-unions  ends. 
Their  object  was  not  to  better  the  social  and  political 
position  of  the  workman,  or  to  raise  wages,  shorten  hours, 
and  improve  working  conditions,  like  the  modern  union. 
Nor  did  they  seek,  like  the  medieval  gilds,  to  limit  the 
number  of  apprentices  in  a  trade,  or  to  develop  skill  and 
artistic  taste  in  a  craft.  Their  end  was  to  provide  means 
of  satisfying  the  desire  of  a  submerged  class  for  religion, 
companionship,  sympathy,  and  help  in  the  great  natural 
emergencies  of  life.5  Hence  the  characteristic  features 
of  Roman  gilds  were  the  provisions  for  social  gatherings, 
and  burial.  An  inscription  upon  a  tombstone  of  central 
Italy  states  that  the  deceased,  "  bequeathed  to  his  gild,  the 
rag-dealers,  a  thousand  sesterces,  from  the  income  of 
which  each  year,  on  the  festival  of  the  Parentalia,  not  less 
than  twelve  men  shall  dine  at  his  tomb."6  Another, 
from  northern  Italy,  relates  that  the  mother  of  a  cer- 
tain member  of  the  rag-dealers'  association  gave  a  sum 
of  money,  from  the  income  of  which  there  should  be  pro- 
vided an  annual  banquet  in  the  temple.7  The  menu  of 
such  a  dinner  seems  to  have  included  lamb,  pork,  bread, 
salad,  onions,  and  wine.  The  expense  of  entertainment 
was  about  twenty-seven  dollars,  but  in  those  days  the 


pp.  221-222. 
e  Corpus  Inscriptionum  Latinarum,  xi,  5047. 
7  Ibid.,  v,  7906 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR  107 

purchasing  power  of  money  was  at  least  three  times  what 
it  is  now.8 

The  schola  in  which  banquets  were  held  was  used  for 
many  purposes  that  the  modern  club-house  serves.  Be- 
sides these  death  anniversary  dinners  there  were  regular 
meeting  times  for  social  intercourse  and  banqueting. 
The  revenues  of  the  society  were  obtained  from  initiation 
fees,  monthly  dues,  donations,  and  occasional  fines. 
Every  gild  had  its  patron.  He  might  be  a  high  official  of 
the  empire,  a  magistrate,  a  priest,  a  great  merchant,  or  a 
simple  freeman.  The  finances  of  the  collegia  were  aided 
by  the  gifts  of  rich  patrons.  These  donations  had 
two  chief  objects :  commemoration  of  the  dead,  and  pro- 
vision for  social  enjoyment.9  The  religious  character  of 
these  gilds  of  workmen  seems  strange  to  us,  yet  each 
collegia  put  itself  under  the  protection  of  a  deity,  and  was 
associated  with  a  cult.  For  example,  the  cabmen  of  the 
Tiber  had  Hercules  as  their  guardian. 

Burial  provisions  formed  an  important  part  of  the  ex- 
penditure of  these  societies.  One  epitaph  states  that  the 
rag-dealers '  gild  contributed  three  hundred  denarii  to  the 
burial  expenses  of  a  certain  physician.10  The  burial  reg- 
ulations of  a  gild  at  Lanuvium  read  as  follows : 

"It  has  pleased  the  members  that  whoever  shall  wish 
to  join  this  gild  shall  pay  an  initiation  fee  of  one  hundred 
sesterces,  and  an  amphora  of  good  wine,  as  well  as  five 
asses  a  month.  Voted  likewise,  that  if  any  man  shall  not 
have  paid  his  dues  for  six  consecutive  months,  and  if  the 
lot  common  to  all  men  has  befallen  him,  his  claim  to  a 
burial  shall  not  be  considered,  even  if  he  shall  have  so 
stipulated  in  his  will.  Voted  likewise,  that  if  any  man 

s  Abbott,  op.  cit.,  p.  223.  10  C.  I.  L.,  op.  cit.,  iii,  3583. 

9  Dill,  op.  cit.,  pp.  273-5,  282. 


108  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

from  this  body  of  ours,  having  paid  his  dues,  shall  depart, 
there  shall  come  to  him  from  the  treasury  three  hundred 
sesterces,  from  which  sum  fifty  sesterces,  which  shall  be 
divided  at  the  funeral  pyre,  shall  go  for  funeral  rites. 
Furthermore,  the  obsequies  shall  be  performed  on 
foot."11 

Abbott  points  out  that  these  gilds  of  humble  working 
folk  provided  for  the  natural  desire  of  all  human  beings 
to  enjoy  authority  over  others,  and  to  satisfy  their  long- 
ing for  ceremony.12  Consequently,  the  gilds  reproduced 
in  miniature  the  popular  assemblies,  official  positions,  and 
insignia  of  the  Roman  government, — the  larger  activities 
in  which  they  were  denied  a  share.  Hence  the  Roman 
V  gilds  were  not  economic  units ;  they  were  rather  social  fra- 
ternities. 

Several  conditions  conspired  to  crush  the  initiative  of 
ancient  gild-members,  and  to  prevent  their  collective  ac- 
tion to  secure  higher  wages  and  improved  working  condi- 
tions. Manufacture,  in  Roman  times,  was  carried  on  by 
artisans  working  singly  in  their  own  shops,  and  factories 
were  comparatively  small  establishments  in  which  elabo- 
rate machines  were  unknown.  Although  there  was  a  con- 
siderable division  of  labor,  the  minute  specialization  char- 
acteristic of  modern  industrial  processes  did  not  exist, 
and  power  was  supplied  by  human  and  animal  energy 
alone.  Thus  there  were  no  large  groups  of  workmen  em- 
ployed in  a  single  establishment  and  working  under  com- 
mon conditions,  as  at  present.  There  was  a  closer  rela- 
tion between  employer  and  employee  than  with  us,  and 
the  isolation  of  master  from  man  had  not  been  accom- 
plished. All  these  conditions  helped  to  keep  workmen 
separated  into  small  groups,  and  interfered  with  the  de- 

11  Ibid.,  xiv,  2112.  12  Op.  cit.,  p.  226. 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR  109 

velopment  of  a  labor-class  consciousness,  which  encour- 
ages common  action  to  advance  class  interests. 

Then  there  was  always  the  great  servile  population, 
sullen,  individualistic,  and  reluctant,  an  utterly  demoral- 
izing competitive  force.  In  the  empire,  the  employer  was 
usually  able  to  secure  a  limited  amount  of  slave  labor,  and 
this  fact  must  have  discouraged  all  hope  of  improve- 
ment. The  scale  of  wages  was  fixed  by  the  rate  of  slave 
hire,  since  it  was  customary  for  owners  to  let  their  slaves 
out  by  the  day  or  job  in  the  various  occupations  to  which 
they  had  been  trained.  Wages  and  their  purchasing 
power,  in  the  year  301  A.D.  or  thereabouts,  may  be  esti- 
mated by  comparing  the  daily  earnings  in  some  forty  dif- 
ferent unskilled  and  skilled  occupations  with  the  prices 
of  foods  and  clothing  stated  in  Diocletian's  edict.13 

WAGES  AND  FOODS,  301  A.D.I* 

Wages  per  day 

cents.  Common  foods.  Cents. 

Unskilled  workman    .  . .  10.8  (k)     Wheat,  per  bushel    33.6 

Bricklayer    21.6  (k)     Rye,  per  bushel 45. 

Carpenter     21.6  (k)     Beans,  per  bushel   45. 

Stone-mason     21.6  (k)     Barley,  per  bushel   74.5 

Painter     32.4  (k)     Fresh  pork,  per  Ib 7.3 

Blacksmith     21.6  (k)     Mutton,  per  Ib 4.9 

Ship-builder     21  to  26      (k)     Sea  fish,  per  Ib 9  to  14 

(k)   receives  keep  also.  Cheese,  per  Ib 7.3 

Eggs,  per  doz 5.1 

Milk,  sheep's,  per  qt 6. 

is  G.  I.  L.,  iii,  1926-53.  This  edict  was  an  effort  to  deal  with  the  press- 
ing problem  of  the  high  cost  of  living.  At  one  point  it  reads:  "Who  is 
of  so  hardened  a  heart  and  so  untouched  by  a  feeling  for  humanity  that  he 
can  be  unaware,  nay,  that  he  has  not  noticed,  that  in  the  sale  of  wares 
which  are  exchanged  in  the  market,  or  dealt  with  in  the  daily  business  of 
the  cities,  an  exorbitant  tendency  in  prices  has  spread  to  such  an  extent 
that  the  unbridled  desire  of  plundering  is  held  in  check  neither  by  abun- 
dance nor  by  seasons  of  plenty."  Translation  by  F.  F.  Abbott,  The  Com- 
mon People  of  Ancient  Rom,e,  p.  155. 

14  According  to  Abbott,  pp.  158-165,  173-174. 


110  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Slave  labor  was  essentially  wasteful,  because  the  great 
masses  of  slaves  were  unskilled  and  reluctant  workers. 
These  facts  combined  to  hinder  the  growth  of  a  spirit 
of  initiative  and  independence  among  the  free  artisan 
classes  of  Rome. 

The  corrupting  influence  of  dole-giving  has  already 
been  mentioned.  It  effectively  undermined  whatever  con- 
tributed to  the  habits  of  self-respect  and  independence  the 
urban  proletariate  had  acquired,  and  this  must  have  con- 
tributed to  the  direct  demoralization  of  the  artisan,  or, 
at  the  best,  adversely  influenced  his  habits  of  thrifty  ap- 
plication by  the  depraved  example  set  by  its  recipients. 
Even  mechanical  invention  was  discouraged.  Under 
these  circumstances,  there  could  be  little  industrial  pro- 
gress, and  consequently  manufacturing  stagnated. 

THE  OBSTACLES  TO  INDUSTRIAL  PROGEESS 

The  demoralization  of  industry  would  not  have  entailed 
such  serious  consequences,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that 
in  other  respects  Roman  economic  methods  were  demor- 
alized. Under  the  empire  the  amount  of  gold  and  silver 
had  not  materially  increased,  because  the  mining  of  pre- 
cious metals  had  diminished,  yet  at  the  same  time  gold 
and  silver  were  constantly  removed  from  circulation  for 
use  in  the  arts,  for  temple  offerings,  and  hoarded  by  pri- 
vate persons.  Added  to  this  drain  on  the  circulating 
medium,  enormous  sums  of  money  were  continually  ex- 
ported to  Arabia,  India,  and  China,  to  pay  for  silk,  spices, 
perfumes,  and  many  other  luxuries.  Moreover,  the  im- 
ported food  supply  involved  the  drain  of  money  from 
Italy.15  The  natural  consequence  of  such  a  perverted 

i5  A  suggestive  treatment  of  the  various  causes  of  the  decline  of  ancient 
civilization  may  be  found  in  W.  L.  Westermann's  article,  The  Economic 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR  111 

national  economy  was  that  the  amount  of  money  in  circu- 
lation became  smaller  every  year.  To  remedy  this  situa- 
tion, the  government  tried  the  expedient  of  debasing  the 
coinage  by  mixing  copper  with  precious  metals.  This 
practice  had  attained  such  proportions  by  the  middle  of 
the  third  century  A.D.,  that  a  piece  which  was  worth  forty 
cents  at  the  time  of  Augustus  came  to  be  worth  but 
one  cent.  Soon  the  well-known  economic  principle  that 
alloyed  coins  drive  pure  coins  out  of  circulation  began  to 
act,  and  all  gold  and  silver  coins  were  driven  from  circu- 
lation by  the  pale  copper  coins.  An  era  of  rising  prices 
was  experienced. 

Just  at  this  juncture  in  the  development  of  Roman  na- 
tional economy,  it  was  most  inconvenient  to  have  a  de- 
based currency,  for  the  demand  for  money  had  increased 
rapidly.  The  large  standing  army  needed  its  pay  at  reg- 
ular intervals,  the  number  of  magistrates  had  multiplied ; 
and  the  cost  of  operating  the  government  had  grown  be- 
cause of  the  increased  expenditure  and  extravagance  of 
emperors  and  many  other  high  officials.  Revenue  to  meet 
these  large  expenses  was  obtained  by  taxation,  but  since 
coins  were  practically  worthless,  money  taxes  failed  to 
supply  the  needs  of  the  government  and  resort  was  made 
to  taxation  in  kind.  The  burden  of  the  taxes  fell  chiefly 
upon  poor  peasant  proprietors.  The  rich  escaped  the 
burden  because  their  taxes  were  proportionately  lighter 
and  they  had  means  of  avoiding  payment. 

Had  industry  flourished,  Rome  might  have  produced 
sufficient  value  in  manufactured  produce  to  pay  for  the 
imported  grain  and  luxuries,  and  hence  might  have  been 
saved  the  economic  demoralization  consequent  upon  a  de- 
Basis  of  the  Decline  of  Ancient  Culture,  American  Historical  Review,  vol. 
xx,  no.  4,  p.  723. 


112  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

based  currency.  But  consumption  had  exceeded  produc- 
tion as  the  chief  economic  activity  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
This  economic  decline  affected  the  organization  of  work- 
men adversely,  and  the  numbers  in  labor  organizations 
diminished  to  an  alarming  extent.  The  government  had 
granted  the  collegia  certain  privileges,  such  as  the  right 
to  receive  legacies  and  to  possess  property  and  slaves; 
also  exemptions  from  burdens  which  ordinary  citizens 
bore:  such  as  freedom  from  military  service,  municipal 
service,  local  taxes  and  the  like.  But  in  return  for  these 
grants,  the  gilds  were  required  to  perform  certain  public 
services.  For  example,  gild  officers  were  required  to  as- 
sist in  collecting  taxes.  The  burden  of  these  obligations 
became  so  heavy  that  it  caused  a  loss  in  membership.  To 
stop  this  tendency  which  endangered  the  industrial  inter- 
ests of  the  empire^  the  government  forbade  men  to  with- 
draw from  gilds.  Membership  in  labor  organizations 
henceforth  became  hereditary,  and  the  sons  of  artisans 
were  bound  to  follow  their  father 's  trade.  An  hereditary 
fixity  of  industrial  occupation,  as  binding  as  the  depend- 
ence of  the  serf  upon  the  soil,  was  thus  effected,  and  all 
hope  of  industrial  progress  from  personal  initiative  and 
mobility  of  labor  was,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  lost. 


PAET  III.  INDUSTKIAL  DEVELOPMENT 
AT  THE  END  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 


CHAPTER  IX 
COMMERCE  AND  THE  TOWNS 

THE  revival  of  town  life  in  the  second  half  of  the  Middle 
Ages  was  largely  an  outgrowth  of  the  spread  of  com- 
merce. A  leading  writer  on  economic  history  says: 
1 1  Commerce  had  been  an  essential  condition  without  which 
the  towns  of  Western  Christendom  would  not  have  come 
into  being,  and  the  development  of  trading  intercourse 
in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  afforded  opportuni- 
ties for  the  growth  of  civic  wealth  and  power. ' ' 1 

According  to  Giry,2  it  is  possible  to  trace  the  tide  of 
commercial  prosperity  as  it  flowed  from  south  to  north, 
first  affecting  the  Italian  Peninsula  and  the  towns  of  Sep- 
timania  and  Provence,  later  reaching  the  Rhine  lands, 
Flanders  and  northern  France,  and  finally  crossing  the 
channel  to  England.  But  it  is  our  purpose  in  this  essay 
simply  to  indicate  in  a  general  way  how  commercial  ex- 
pansion was  related  to  the  early  growth  of  towns  in  which, 
eventually,  manufacturing  industry  was  to  come  into  its 
own. 

Towns  secured  their  municipal  liberties  by  various 
means,  and  the  story  of  this  gradual  emancipation  from 
feudal  restraints  is  exceedingly  interesting.  Increasing 
trade  made  the  towns  grow  rich  and  powerful,  and  some 
fought  for  their  political  freedom,  while  others  purchased 
it  from  bankrupt  princes.  In  different  ways,  and  on  dif- 

1  Cunningham,  op.  rit.,  vol.  ii,  p.  90. 

2  Histoire  Generate,  edited  by  Lavisse  and  Rambsoud,  ii,  p.  420. 

115 


116  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ferent  occasions,  freedom  was  obtained.  The  English 
towns  of  Portsmouth  and  Norwich,  to  mention  two  cases, 
gained  their  charters  by  paying  part  of  Richard  I's  ran- 
som in  1194.3 

THE    CRUSADES 

The  opening  up  of  the  East  to  the  commerce  of  western 
Europe  came  from  new  relations  established  by  the  Cru- 
sades in  the  period  1095-1270  A.D.  Social  and  economic 
conditions,  as  well  as  a  curious  complex  of  motives,  led  to 
the  extraordinary  medieval  phenomena  of  the  Crusades. 
Population  was  pressing  upon  the  means  of  subsistence, 
and  a  crop  failure  was  all  that  was  necessary  to  precipi- 
tate a  migratory  movement  among  the  landless  and  im- 
poverished men  whose  condition  was  one  of  unrelieved 
misery.  The  imagination  of  the  more  intelligent  was 
fired  by  tales  which  travelers  brought  from  the  Orient 
of  fabulous  wealth,  gold  and  silver,  beautiful  women,  and 
rich  spoils  awaiting  the  hand  of  the  conqueror.  Added 
to  these  influences,  there  was  a  religiously  fanatical  habit 
of  mind  which  showed  itself  in  the  rapid  spread  of  popu- 
lar manias,  delusions,  and  hallucinations.  Sumner 4  con- 
siders the  Crusades  as  fairly  typical  cases  of  mob 
excitement  and  delusion,  part  of  the  monstrous  mass- 
phenomena  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Finally,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  some  persons  were,  no  doubt,  animated  by  a 
sincere  desire  to  wrest  the  Holy  Land  from  the  infidels. 
But  whatever  the  circumstances  which  initiated  the  move- 
ment and  sustained  the  crusading  spirit,  there  is  no  diffi- 
culty in  understanding  the  important  part  played  by  the 
Crusades  in  opening  up  commerce. 

s  Gibbins,  H.  deB. — Industry  in  England,  4th  ed.,  New  York,  1906,  p.  91. 
4  Folkways,  Boston,  1907,  pp.  210-14. 


COMMERCE  AND  THE  TOWNS  117 

The  transportation  of  large  bodies  of  troops  necessi- 
tated the  organization  of  methods  for  carrying  supplies, 
and  this  system,  once  established,  was  easily  turned  to 
use  for  regular  purposes  of  commerce.  Tastes  for  new 
luxuries,  such  as  cotton,  silks,  sugar,  water-melons,  spices, 
pepper,  perfumes,  jewels,  glassware,  to  mention  only  a 
few,  when  formed  by  the  crusaders  stimulated  commer- 
cial intercourse  with  the  East  to  supply  these  products  to 
the  West.  The  Italian  seaports,  Venice  and  Genoa,  were 
large  beneficiaries  of  this  new  trade.  In  fact,  through  the 
efforts  of  Venice  the  Fourth  Crusade  was  a  commercial 
enterprise.  The  princely  leaders  of  the  Crusades  were 
constantly  in  need  of  funds,  and  corporations  of  Italian 
bankers  were  formed  -to  supply  certain  sums  of  money  at 
designated  places  as,  for  example,  in  all  the  principal 
cities  of  Cyprus,  Syria,  and  Egypt.  Cunningham  says: 

The  impulse  given  to  the  Italian  towns  was  communicated  with 
more  or  less  rapidity  to  other  centers  in  Europe.  The  cities  in 
the  Danube  valley  must  have  profited  to  some  extent  by  catering 
to  the  armies  which  passed  along  that  route ;  while  Augsburg  and 
Nuremberg,  which  were  in  direct  communication  with  Venice, 
gained  with  the  increase  of  her  commercial  activity.  ...  In  the 
fourteenth  century  we  can  estimate  the  full  extent  of  the  impulse 
given  by  the  Crusades.  We  see  organized  commercial  communi- 
cation between  all  parts  of  Western  Christendom  and  with  coun- 
tries which  lay  outside,  and  we  see,  too,  that  a  new  development 
of  industry  followed  in  connection  with  the  improvement  of 
facilities  for  trading  intercourse.5 

The  close  of  the  crusading  period  brings  us  to  a  stage  in 
commercial  development  and  town  growth  characterized 
by  the  creation  of  leagues  and  confederations  of  trading 
towns.  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg  were  leaders  in  the 
Swabian  Confederacy,  founded  about  1300,  and  had  com- 

«  Op.  cit.,  pp.  128-29. 


118  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

mercial  relations  with  Venice  and  Genoa,  as  did  the  towns 
of  the  Confederacy  of  the  Rhine.  From  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury protective  alliance  of  Hamburg  and  Liibeck,  there 
developed  the  Hansa  League  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
This  league  comprised  seventy  cities,  organized  into  four 
districts  under  the  leadership  of  Liibeck,  Cologne,  Bruns- 
wick, and  Danzig,  respectively.  It  succeeded  in  gaining 
complete  monopoly  of  the  trade  of  the  Baltic  region,  sup- 
pressing piracy,  preserving  order,  and  establishing  fac- 
tories at  Novgorod,  London,  Bergen,  and  Bruges.  The 
trade  consisted  largely  of  raw  products,  although  such 
manufactured  products  as  linen,  cloth,  and  metal  work 
were  exchanged.6 

Commercial  expansion  increased  the  number  of  mer- 
chants engaged  in  active  trade,  and  this  class  soon  ob- 
tained a  dominating  influence  in  town  government.  * '  The 
bankers,  who  acted  as  agents  for  the  collection  of  papal 
revenue,  were  important  people  at  many  centers.  At 
Florence,  the  merchants  who  imported  cloth  had  a  leading 
position ;  in  London,  the  grocers,  who  dealt  in  bulky  goods 
which  were  weighed  by  the  large  beam,  seemed  to  have 
monopolized  all  city  dignities  for  a  time,  though  the  mer- 
cers, who  dealt  in  silk  and  other  valuable  goods  weighed 
in  a  small  balance,  had  the  older  organizations  there. 
These  groups  of  merchants,  associated  in  companies  for 
the  wise  regulation  of  their  own  trades,  had  practical  con- 
trol of  the  government  of  their  city. ' ' 7 

THE   GILD    MERCHANT 

Trading  activities  centered  in  English  towns  were  pro- 
tected and  regulated  by  ' '  gild  merchants. ' '  These  organ- 

e  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  48-54,  60-71,  74-75. 
7  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  p.  94. 


COMMERCE  AND  THE  TOWNS  119 

izations  were  composed  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  a  town 
who  habitually  engaged  in  the  business  of  selling  a  great 
variety  of  articles.  Unlike  the  ancient  gilds,  whose  chief 
objects  of  existence  were  social  and  religious,  the  gild 
merchant  was  primarily  an  association  to  protect  and 
regulate  trade,  and  to  preserve  for  its  members  a  trade 
monopoly.  Among  other  privileges,  its  members  en- 
joyed the  following:  exemption  from  tolls;  exclusive 
right  to  sell  at  retail ;  and  the  right  to  buy  from  another 
merchant  at  cost  price.8  Charitable,  fraternal,  and  re- 
ligious activities  were  really  of  secondary  importance, 
although  a  great  part  of  the  time  of  the  gild  merchant  was 
spent  in  holding  meetings  and  feasts.9 

8  Gross,  C. — The  Gild  Merchant,  vol.  i,  pp.  38,  40,  49. 

9  Cheney,  E.  P. — An  Introduction  to  the  Industrial  and  Social  History  of 
England,  New  York,  1908,  pp.  59-64. 


CHAPTER  X 

HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY  AND  THE  CRAFT 

GILDS 

THE  gild  merchant  experienced  a  decline  in  power  dur- 
ing the  rise  of  the  craft-gilds  in  twelfth  and  thirteenth 
century  England.  Ashley  says :  '  *  The  rise  of  the  craft- 
gilds  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  meant  the 
appearance  in  western  Europe  of  industry  as  a  separate 
economic  phenomenon,  as  distinguished  from  agriculture 
on  the  one  side  and  trade  on  the  other. ' ' 1 

The  craft-gilds  were  composed  of  a  body  of  men  with 
whom  manufacture  was  not  a  by-employment,  but  the 
main  business  of  life.  Town  living  had  by  this  time  so 
well  established  habits  of  peace  and  social  order  that 
growing  crops  and  raising  herds  -of  cattle  could  be  cared 
for  without  danger  of  molestation.  As  a  consequence, 
the  food  supply  increased  to  an  extent  which  permitted 
the  existence  of  a  non-agricultural  class.  Moreover,  the 
demand  for  manufactured  articles  settled  down  to  a 
steady  basis,  and  men  could  safely  devote  their  entire  time 
to  supplying  the  need. 

THE   HANDICRAFT   SYSTEM 

The  manufacture  of  marketable  articles  by  artisans 
who  were  members  of  craft-gilds  became  an  industrial 
system  in  itself.  It  was  one  of  the  really  significant 
stages  in  the  progress  of  industry,  and  is  generally 

i  English  Economic  History,  New  York,  1893,  vol.  ii,  p.  99. 

120 


HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY  121 

known  by  the  name  of  the  "handicraft  system."    Selig- 
man  says: 

Under  this  system  the  artisan  is  independent;  he  no  longer 
works  in  the  house  of  the  consumer.  He  occupies  his  own  house, 
goes  to  market  to  purchase  raw  materials,  works  up  the  raw  ma- 
terial in  his  own  home  with  his  own  tools,  and  sells  the  finished 
product  to  the  consumer  in  his  own  shop.  .  .  .  Every  phase  of 
the  process,  down  to  the  sale  of  the  finished  commodity,  is  in  the 
hands  of  the  workman  himself.  The  workman  or  craftsman, 
moreover,  finishes  everything  by  hand,  and  it  is  for  this  reason 
that  we  speak  of  the  ' '  handicraft  system. ' '  This  does  not  mean 
that  things  were  not  previously,  or  even  subsequently,  made  by 
hand,  but  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  distinguishing  mark 
is  the  growing  importance  of  industry,  and  the  rise  of  an  inde- 
pendent class  of  workmen  who  conduct  business  enterprises  by 
themselves.  .  .  . 

In  the  Middle  Ages  workmen  gradually  banded  themselves 
together  by  trades  into  compact  organizations,  known  as  gilds  or 
crafts.  Historically,  the  system  has  therefore  come  to  be  known 
as  the  "gild  system."  The  gilds,  however,  were  a  result  rather 
than  a  cause ;  and  in  many  parts  of  the  world  we  find  the  handi- 
craft system  without  the  gilds.2 

Manufacture  was  carried  on  in  the  home-shop  to  supply 
the  steady  and  dependable  demand  of  a  small  group  of 
customers,  who  lived  in  the  town,  or  at  least  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity.  Only  a  little  capital  was  needed.  It  con- 
sisted of  the  home-shop,  a  few  relatively  simple  tools,  and 
a  small  supply  of  raw  materials.  The  demand  for  prod- 
ucts of  these  small  shops  was  a  staple  demand  and  the 
rapid  and  incalculable  fluctuations  of  the  modern  market 
were  unknown,  because  most  of  the  articles  were  called  for 

2  Principles  of  Economics,  New  York,  1908,  pp.  90-91;  also  Aghley,  op. 
(At.,  pp.  218-19.  In  the  present  book  Seligman  is  followed  rather  than 
Ashley,  and  the  term  "handicraft  system"  is  used  as  a  wider  term  which,  in 
medieval  times,  embraces  the  gild  system. 


122  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

by  necessity  and  not  by  fashion,  and  the  market  was 
strictly  local.  The  trade  was  carried  on  in  a  given  fam- 
ily and  considerable  manual  skill  attained.  No  new  in- 
ventions or  improved  methods  were  introduced  to  disturb 
the  regularity  of  production,  and  hence  the  regulation  of 
prices  and  methods  of  manufacture  was  easy.3  Working 
in  his  own  shop  with  his  own  tools  upon  his  own  material 
or  that  brought  him  by  a  customer,  the  artisan  enjoyed  a 
considerable  degree  of  personal  independence.  The  av- 
erage worker  procured  his  own  raw  material,  then  trans- 
formed it  into  the  finished  article  by  the  labor  of  his  own 
hands,  and  finally  sold  it  by  his  own  efforts  at  shop  or 
market.  Thus  the  whole  process  of  production  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  artisan.  In  other  cases,  a  customer  brought 
the  materials  to  the  shop,  and  in  due  time  returned  for 
the  article,  or  the  artisan  worked  in  the  customer 's  house 
upon  materials  furnished  him.  But  in  any  event,  the 
worker  was  able  to  follow  the  product  from  its  raw  condi- 
tion through  successive  stages  in  the  process  of  manufac- 
ture to  its  finished  state,  and  took  a  certain  pride  in  its 
production.  Here  is  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  factory  man- 
ufacturing processes  of  to-day,  under  which  the  average 
laborer  performs  one  simple  operation  upon  one  part  of 
an  article,  and  may  not  even  know  the  purpose  of  the 
finished  product.  This  handiwork  method  made  it  inev- 
itable that  shops  should  be  small,  with  no  large  class  of 
wage-laborers  like  the  great  factories  of  to-day. 

According  to  modern  terminology,  it  seems  as  though 
the  gild-craftsman  was  employer,  employee,  capitalist, 
and  salesman,  all  in  one,  yet  the  terms  do  not  accurately 
describe  the  situation.  We  must  remember  that  the  cap- 
ital investment  was  small,  the  apprentices  and  journey- 

•     3  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  vol.  i,  pp.  92-94. 


HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY 


123 


men  in  the  shop  of  the  master  were  few,  and  the  science  of 
salesmanship  and  commercial  routing  had  not  developed. 
The  division  of  labor  in  productive  processes  was  as  yet 
simple,  and  it  lacked  the  high  specialization  of  contempo- 
rary times  which  has  given  the 
terms  " employer,"  "employee," 
"  capitalist, "  and  "salesman" 
their  significant  meaning. 

As  early  as  1130  A.D.,  there 
were  gilds  of  weavers  in  London, 
Lincoln,  and  Oxford.  Gilds  ex- 
isted among  the  cordwainers  of 
Rouen,  the  tanners  of  Ghent,  and 
the  drapers  of  Valenciennes.4  It 
was  not  long  before  crafts  other 
than  the  weavers  were  organ- 
ized into  gilds,  and  we  find 
such  trades  as  glovers,  girdlers, 
pocket-makers,  skinners,  white 
tawyers,  fletchers,  bowyers,  stringers,  spurriers,  dyers, 
and  fishmongers,  organized  into  independent  bodies.  By 
1350,  there  were  forty  gilds  in  London  alone. 

INTERNAL    ORGANIZATION    OF    THE    CRAFT-GILDS 

The  craft-gilds  "were  formed  primarily  to  regulate  and 
preserve  the  monopoly  of  their  own  occupations  in  their 
own  town,  just  as  the  gild  merchant  existed  to  regulate  the 
trade  of  the  town  in  general. ' ' 5  They  were  usually  sub- 
ject to  the  authority  of  the  town  government,  and  some- 
times enjoyed  the  special  privilege  of  a  charter  from  the 
crown.  They  regulated  the  work  of  all  artisans  in  the 

4  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  vol.  ii,  pp.  95-96. 
6  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  p.  65. 


FIG.  3. — A  blast  furnace  of 
the  Middle  Ages 


124  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

trade,  and  no  one  was  allowed  to  work  at  a  craft  until  he 
had  obtained  the  approval  of  the  gild's  officials,  and  ad- 
mission to  the  organization. 

Gibbins  says  of  the  craft-gilds :  ' '  They  first  arose,  of 
course,  in  the  towns,  and  originally  seem  to  have  consisted 
of  a  small  body  of  the  leading  men  of  a  particular  craft,  to 
whom  was  confided  the  regulation  of  a  particular  indus- 
try, probably  as  soon  as  that  industry  was  thought  of 
sufficient  importance  to  be  regulated."6  Shops  of  the 
same  trade  were  located  in  the  same  locality  of  the  town, 
much  like  the  grouping  of  artisans  in  Athens. 

The  workman  attained  full  membership  and  influence  in 
the  counsels  of  the  gild,  only  after  he  had  passed  through 
the  successive  grades  of  apprenticeship  and  journeyman, 
and  had  reached  the  position  of  a  master.  The  system  of 
each  master  having  apprentices  was  designed  to  secure  a 
continuous  supply  of  competent  workmen  for  the  future. 
The  young  man  entered  the  trade  as  an  apprentice,  and 
was  bound  to  a  master  for  a  number  of  years,  differing  in 
different  crafts,  but  frequently  seven  years.  The  parents 
of  the  apprentice  usually  signed  a  contract  which  guaran- 
teed that  clothing,  food,  and  lodging  should  be  provided 
by  the  master,  in  addition  to  the  understanding  that  he 
should  teach  the  apprentice  all  that  he  himself  knew  about 
the  trade.  The  contract  protected  the  master  by  stipulat- 
ing that  the  apprentice,  on  his  part,  was  bound  to  keep  the 
trade  secrets  of  his  master,  obey  his  orders,  and  work  in 
his  shop.  It  happened  occasionally  in  French  gilds  that 
the  apprentice  received  a  small  salary  after  the  first  two 
or  three  years,  if  the  craft  authorities  recognized  him  as  a 
capable  workman.  In  England,  this  sometimes  occurred 
after  the  fifth  year,  or  a  little  pocket-money  was  given  for 

« Op.  tit.,  p.  96. 


HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY  125 

the  first  few  years.  In  general,  however,  the  apprentice 
was  unpaid.  The  craft  limited  the  number  of  appren- 
tices that  a  master  might  keep;  for  example,  to  that 
which  a  master  could  "keep,  inform,  and  teach."  The 
slaters  of  New  Castle  had  a  requirement  that  a  master 
should  not  take  a  second  apprentice  until  the  first  had 
served  six  or  seven  years.  These  regulations  make  it 
clear  that  the  instruction  given  by  a  master  was  of  the 
most  approved  individual  nature.  In  the  beginning,  this 
policy  of  apprenticeship  regulation  aimed  to  secure  thor- 
ough training,  but  later  it  was  dictated  by  the  selfish  mo- 
tive to  crush  competition.  In  time,  the  gilds  strictly  regu- 
lated admission  to  apprenticeship.  Foreigners  and  cer- 
tain stipulated  classes  were  excluded,  and  in  some  in- 
stances even  those  who  used  husbandry  until  the  twelfth 
year.7 

At  the  expiration  of  his  term  of  apprenticeship,  the 
young  artisan  became  a  "journeyman"  or  full  workman, 
and  continued  in  the  shop  of  his  master  as  a  regular  wage- 
earner.  If  the  journeyman  was  frugal,  he  managed  to 
save  enough  money  from  his  wages  to  set  up  an  inde- 
pendent shop  of  his  own,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  produced 
an  article  of  the  trade  which  fulfilled  standards  set  by  the 
gild  officials,  he  became  a  master  workman.  In  this  ca- 
pacity he  trained  apprentices  in  his  own  shop,  and  em- 
ployed journeymen  at  wages.  Since  shops  were  in  the 
homes  of  artisans,  they  were  of  necessity  small,  and  so 
few  apprentices  and  journeymen  were  employed  that  dif- 
ferences in  the  position  of  the  different  classes  of  work- 
men were  not  great,  thus  making  the  relations  of  mas- 
ter and  man  of  a  very  personal  nature. 

1 1bid.,  pp.  89-90;  see  also  Cunningham,  W. — Growth  of  English  Indus- 
try and  Commerce,  4th  edition,  1905,  pp.  336-53. 


126  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ACTIVITIES    OF    THE    CRAFT-GILDS 

Each  gild  had  a  very  definite  organization.  There  were 
rules  and  regulations  providing  for  officials  and  their  pow- 
ers, the  time  and  purpose  of  meetings,  common  religious 
observances,  feast  days,  fines  and  benefits  of  members, 
the  presentation  of  " mystery  plays,"  and  other  activities. 

Strict  rules  governing  the  manufacture  of  goods  en- 
deavored to  prevent  fraud  and  to  secure  the  observance 
of  certain  standards  of  size  and  quality  in  the  production 
of  trade  articles.  Whenever  an  article  was  made  in  vio- 
lation of  these  regulations,  it  was  termed  *  *  false. ' '  False 
work  was  penalized  by  fines,  one  half  of  the  fine  going  to 
the  town  funds,  and  the  other  half  to  the  gild  treasury. 
A  workman  who  offended  three  or  four  times  was  expelled 
from  the  craft.  Deceitful  devices,  such  as  placing  better 
wares  on  the  top  of  the  bale  to  cover  up  inferior  articles 
beneath,  the  moistening  of  groceries  to  make  them  weigh 
heavier  when  sold,  and  the  sale  of  second-hand  articles  for 
new  wares,  were  likewise  punished.  Persons  who  did 
these  things  were  held  in  contempt.  The  odious  terms 
"regrators,"^forestallers,"  and  ''engrossers,"  were  ap- 
plied to  those  who  bought  low,  and  without  adding  to  the 
value  of  an  article,  sold  it  at  a  higher  price ;  to  those  who 
bought  their  supplies  secretly,  before  they  had  been  of- 
fered for  sale  in  the  open  market;  and  to  those  who  at- 
tempted to  corner  the  supply  of  a  necessary  article.  Yet 
such  devices  are  all  too  frequently  considered  marks  of 
business  acumen  and  enterprise  at  the  present  time. 

The  craft  authorities  prohibited  night  work  in  order  to 
prevent  fraud,  because  the  gild-wardens  did  not  inspect 
work  at  night,  and  because  the  noise  of  manufacture  dis- 
turbed the  slumbers  of  the  neighborhood.  For  example, 


HANDICRAFT  INDUSTRY  127 

the  gild  of  spurriers  forbade  night  work  that  no  one  might 
have  the  opportunity  to  "  introduce  false  iron,  and  iron 
that  has  been  cracked,  for  tin,"  and  to  prevent  similar 
practices  in  the  trade.  They  also  observed  that  night 
work  tended  to  encourage  " wandering  about  all  day," 
until  the  drunk  and  frantic  artisans  took  to  their  work  at 
night  *  *  to  the  annoyance  of  the  sick  and  all  their  neighbor- 
hood as  wellj  by  reason  of  the  broils  that  arise  between 
them  and  the  strange  folk  who  are  dwelling  among  them. ' ' 
There  was  also  peril  to  the  whole  community  from  the 
vigorous  way  in  which  these  drunken  workmen  blew  up 
their  fires  until  they  blazed  high  and  sent  out  showers  of 
sparks.  The  gild  regulations  therefore  conclude:  "By 
reason  thereof,  it  seems  unto  them  (the  gild)  that  working 
by  night  should  be  put  an  end  to,  in  order  to  avoid  false 
work  and  such  perils."8  Thus  the  desire  to  preserve 
good  trade  standards  and  avoid  giving  offense,  rather 
than  dread  of  long  hours  on  the  ground  of  humanita- 
rian principles,  was  the  guiding  motives  in  these  regula- 
tions. 

The  social  and  charitable  side  of  the  gild  regulations  is 
well  illustrated  by  the  rules  of  the  white  tawyer  's  gild.  A 
money-box  was  provided  and  "if  by  chance  any  of  the 
said  trade  shall  fall  into  poverty,  whether  through  old 
age  or  because  he  cannot  labor  or  work,  and  shall  have 
nothing  with  which  to  keep  himself,  he  shall  have  every 
week  from  the  said  box,  seven  pence  for  his  support,  if  he 
be  a  man  in  good  repute."  Dependents  were  also  pro- 
vided for  thus :  ' '  And  after  his  decease,  if  he  have  a  wife, 
a  woman  of  good  repute,  she  shall  have  weekly  for  her 
support  seven  pence  from  the  said  box,  so  long  as  she  shall 

s  Riley,  Memorials  of  London,  pp.  226  et  seq.;  trans,  by  Cheney,  Tr.  and 
Rp.,  vol.  ii,  no.  1. 


128  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

behave  herself  well  and  keep  single."  A  further  regula- 
tion directs  that  *  *  if  any  one  of  the  said  trade  shall  depart 
this  life,  and  have  not  withal  to  be  buried,  he  shall  be 
buried  at  the  expense  of  their  common  box."9  There 
was  also  the  obligation  upon  gild  members  to  attend  the 
vigil  of  a  deceased  member. 

The  duties  and  powers  of  such  gild  officials  as  masters, 
wardens,  or  stewards,  extended  to  supervision  over  the 
work  of  members,  preservation  of  order  at  the  craft  meet- 
ings, discipline  of  journeymen  and  apprentices,  settle- 
ment of  disputes  in  the  trade,  administration  of  the  gild's 
charities,  and  representation  of  the  gild  before  the  town 
authorities. 

Although  the  economic  and  commercial  activities  of  the 
artisan's  life  were  the  chief  concern  of  the  organized 
craft,  the  gilds  did  not  neglect  religious  matters.  Gilds 
were  especially  dedicated  to  the  worship  of  some  saint, 
and  upon  the  patron  saint 's  day,  as  well  as  at  the  funerals 
of  members,  common  religious  observances  were  held  at 
which  members  walked  in  procession,  dressed  in  common 
suits  of  their  craft  livery.  It  was  customary  to  main- 
tain a  shrine  in  some  neighboring  church  where  candles, 
purchased  with  sums  placed  in  the  gild-box,  were  kept 
burning.  Like  the  Roman  collegia,  these  medieval  gilds 
had  their  semireligious  feast-days,  when  all  the  members 
gathered  together  to  dine  and  enjoy  social  intercourse. 

» Ibid.,  pp.  232  et  seq. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CRAFT-GILDS 

MEDIEVAL  gilds  performed  a  great  service  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  industrial  and  social  organization.  The 
middle-class  population  of  Greece  and  Rome  had  been 
demoralized  by  the  disproportionate  growth  of  a  class  of 
large  landholders  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  great  class  of 
agricultural  slaves  or  serfs  on  the  other.  It  was  not  un- 
til the  rise  of  medieval  gilds  that  the  middle  class  again 
appeared  in  the  social  organization  of  Western  Europe. 
Within  the  protective  shelter  of  the  merchant  and  craft- 
gild  organizations,  there  gradually  "grew  up  a  wide 
middle  class  of  opulent  traders  and  comfortable  crafts- 
men, ' '  which  brought  about  the  transformation  of  feudal 
society  into  the  modern  society.1  This  middle  class  has 
been  an  important  factor  in  securing  the  economic  and 
social  stability  of  our  contemporary  civilization.  Before 
the  rise  of  the  gilds,  there  was  no  such  class.  Powerful 
feudal  nobles,  with  their  predatory  practices,  made  the 
age  one  of  violence  and  insecurity.  There  was  no  strong 
national  government  to  protect  the  interests  of  individual 
artisans  and  traders.  Gradually  the  gild  organization 
won  power  with  which  to  protect  the  interests  of  the  com- 
mercial and  industrial  classes,  and  brought  into  being  the 
"bourgeoisie." 

The  medieval  period  was  one  in  which  society  was 
permeated  with  moral  conceptions  of  the  obligation  to  do 

i  Ashley,  op.  tit.,  vol.  U,  pp.  101,  168. 

129 


130  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

good  work  and  the  dignity  of  labor,  conceptions  quite 
foreign  to  antiquity.  Ashley  points  out  that  the  later 
Middle  Ages  was  a  time  "when  elementary  conceptions  of 
good  and  honest  work  needed  to  be  driven  into  the  general 
conscience  by  minute  rules  vigorously  enforced;  when 
what  was  required  was  discipline,  rather  than  spontane- 
ity. ' ' 2  Hence  the  craft-gild  regulations  governing  qual- 
ity and  standards  of  production  were  of  immense  moral 
as  well  as  practical  value  in  helping  to  stabilize  the  then 
chaotic  condition  of  manufacturing  industries.  These 
rules  helped  in  considerable  measure  to  solve  the  difficult 
problems  raised  by  the  conflict  of  interests  of  consumers 
and  producers.  Contemporary  competition  tends  to  sac- 
rifice the  welfare  of  the  producer  on  the  assumption  that 
the  workman  can  live  if  only  articles  are  cheaply  enough 
produced.  As  a  contrast  to  this  laissez-faire  attitude, 
happily  a  passing  phase  of  the  social  conscience,  the  ideal 
of  the  craft-gild  was  to  combine  with  good  quality  and  a 
fair  price  to  the  consumer,  good  working  conditions  for 
the  producing  class. 

But  no  human  institution  can  persist  indefinitely  with- 
out modifications  in  structure  and  function  that  permit 
adaptation  to  changing  social  interests  and  external  con- 
ditions. We  have  seen  how  the  gild  merchant  gave  place 
to  the  craft-gild  in  the  life  of  English  towns.  Now  the 
craft-gild  was  similarly  to  be  superseded  by  new  forms  of 
industrial  organization  better  adapted  to  the  new  condi- 
tions which  grew  out  of  the  expansion  of  industry  to  na- 
tional proportions,  and  the  extension  of  commerce  to  the 
New  World.  The  craft-gild  was  "in  its  essence  a  system 
of  control,"3  and  its  restrictions,  which  sought  only  the 
protection  of  gildsmen,  inevitably  worked  some  harm  to 

2  Ibid.  s  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  p.  167. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CRAFT-GILDS     131 

outsiders.  Further  than  this,  the  protective  legislation 
itself  tended  to  become  a  restraining  factor  which  injured 
the  future  prospects  of  the  very  system  it  was  designed 
to  foster.  Personal  initiative  was  crushed,  and  enter- 
prise in  adopting  new  inventions  and  introducing  im- 
provements was  stifled.  So  we  discover  that  the  normal 
succession  of  the  grades  of  apprentice,  journeyman,  and 
master  craftsman,  was  gradually  broken  in  upon ;  for  not 
all  of  those  who  started  as  apprentices  might  hope  to  at- 
tain the  highest  industrial  ranking.  There  was  a  nu- 
merically increasing  class  of  workmen  who  were  destined 
always  to  remain  employees  in  the  shop  of  some  master 
craftsman.  By  the  fourteenth  century,  a  true  * l  working- 
class"  had  arisen.4  The  growth  of  this  industrial 
proletariate  was  the  consequence  of  a  variety  of  causes 
not  yet  completely  understood.  But  the  main  factors 
responsible  for  the  decline  of  the  English  craft-gilds  with 
which  this  phenomenon  was  associated  were:  injurious 
regulation  of  internal  affairs ;  a  change  in  the  location  of 
manufacturing  industries ;  and  increasing  control  of  eco- 
nomic activities  by  the  central  government.5 

INTERNAL  DEMOKALIZATION 

The  selfish  desire  of  those  who  were  prominent  in  the 
craft  to  secure  a  monopoly,  gradually  gained  such  ascend- 
ancy that  gild  regulations  became  injurious.  Almost 
prohibitive  fees  were  charged  to  all  who  desired  to  enter 
the  craft  and  receive  the  privileges  gild  members  enjoyed. 
In  some  cases  the  master  craftsmen  pursued  a  deliberate 
policy  of  exclusion.  In  1480,  there  was  a  plea  for  the 

4  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  p.  102. 

6  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  pp.  147-161 ;  see  also  Kramer,  S. — "The  English  Craft 
Gilds  and  the  Government,"  Studies  in  History,  Economics  and  Public  Law, 
vol.  xxiii. 


132  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

reduction  of  excessive  fines  assessed  on  apprentices  who 
entered  the  mercers'  gild  of  Shrewsbury.  In  1531,  Par- 
liament limited  the  entrance  fee  to  two  shillings  and  six- 
pence, and  the  fee  at  completion  of  apprenticeship  to 
three  shillings  and  fourpence.  The  town  council  of  Ox- 
ford enacted,  in  1531,  ''that  no  occupation  for  crafts 
within  the  town  of  Oxford  and  the  suburbs  of  the  same 
shall  take  of  any  person  that  shall  come  to  be  brother  of 
their  crafts  above  the  sum  of  20s. ;  and  if  the  same  craft  or 
occupation  take  any  more  than  the  same  20s.,  that  then 
the  same  occupation  or  craft  to  forfeit  to  the  use  of  the 
town  coffers,  40s."  6  Another  irksome  restraint  upon  in- 
dividual initiative  was  the  requirement  that  the  term  of 
apprenticeship  be  rigidly  fixed  at  seven  years.  The  whole 
situation  was  further  complicated  by  the  gilds'  struggle 
with  aliens,  and  the  increasing  difficulty  of  suppressing 
disorder  among  apprentices.  There  are  instances  in 
which  master  craftsmen  required  their  apprentices  at 
the  time  of  indenture  to  take  oath  that  when  they  com- 
pleted the  period  of  apprenticeship,  they  would  not  set 
up  an  independent  establishment.  This  regulation  was 
obviously  designed  to  curb  the  competition  which  would 
inevitably  arise  if  the  number  of  independent  shops  should 
increase.  Then  it  was  not  a  period  of  great  business  en- 
terprise, so  that  no  doubt  the  mere  lack  of  initiative,  com- 
bined with  inability  to  procure  capital,  prevented  a  large 
element  from  passing  through  the  stage  of  journeyman 
and  rising  to  master  craftsmanship. 

These  various  conditions  must  have  helped  to  create  a 
sort  of  class-consciousness  among  the  wage-earning 
artisans,  for  we  find  the  journeymen  organizing  them- 
selves into  '  *  yeomen  gilds, "  or  "  journeymen  gilds. ' '  Be- 

e  Records  of  Oxford,  107,  quoted  by  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  p.  105. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CEAFT-GILDS     133 

tween  1383  and  1696,  there  were  such  associations  among 
the  cordwainers,  tailors,  blacksmiths,  carpenters,  drapers, 
ironmongers,  founders,  fishmongers,  cloth-workers,  and 
armorers  of  London.  We  also  find  these  organizations 
among  the  weavers  in  Coventry,  the  tailors  in  Exeter  and 
Briston,  and  the  shoemakers  in  Oxford. 

Although  there  was  at  first  natural  opposition  to  the 
new  societies  on  the  part  of  masters, — an  opposition  sanc- 
tioned and  supported  by  the  town  authorities, — in  the 
course  of  time  they  received  recognition  and  came  to  oc- 
cupy a  somewhat  subordinate  position  in  a  number  of 
different  crafts.  Like  the  older  craft-gilds,  they  gained 
the  right  to  hold  meetings,  have  officers,  possess  a  livery 
of  their  own,  hold  feasts,  and  administer  charitable  funds 
for  their  members.  It  was  common  to  have  written 
agreements  which  defined  the  relations  of  the  yeomen 
gilds  and  the  craft-gilds.  For  example,  the  craft  of 
blacksmiths  of  London  granted  certain  privileges  to  "the 
brotherhqod  of  yeomen"  in  1434.  But  the  similarity  of 
the  journeymen  gilds  to  the  craft-gilds  is  confined  to 
points  of  organization,  for  they  enjoyed  no  general  con- 
trol over  industry  like  the  craft-gilds.  Ashley  comments 
upon  the  fact  that  the  London  ordinances  give  evidence  of 
the  existence  of  common  agreements  among  journeymen 
not  to  work,  in  this  respect  exactly  of  the  same  nature  as 
modern  strikes.7  For  example:  "Whereas,  heretofore, 
if  there  was  any  dispute  between  a  master  in  the  trade 
and  his  man  (vadlett),  such  man  has  been  wont  to  go 
to  all  the  men  within  the  city  of  the  same  trade ;  and  then, 
.by  covin  and  conspiracy  between  them  made,  they  would 
order  that  no  one  among  them  should  work  or  serve  his 
own  master,  until  the  said  master  and  his  servant  man  had 

7  Ibid.,  pp.  103-4. 


134  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

come  to  an  agreement;  by  reason  whereof  the  masters 
in  the  said  trade  have  been  in  great  trouble,  and  the  peo- 
ple left  unserved;  it  is  ordained,  that  from  henceforth, 
if  there  be  any  dispute  moved  between  any  master  and 
his  man  in  the  trade,  such  dispute  shall  be  settled  by  the 
wardens  of  the  trade.  .  .  . "  8 

While  this  process  of  class  differentiation  proceeded, 
within  the  old  craft-gilds,  to  separate  the  master  crafts- 
men from  the  journeymen,  changes  were  also  taking 
place  within  the  group  of  master  artisans  themselves. 
Masters  in  the  same  trade  came  to  have  unequal  powers 
and  positions.  The  wealthier  craftsmen  gained  a  larger 
share  in  the  administration  of  the  affairs  of  a  gild  than 
their  humbler  colleagues.  In  the  larger  London  com- 
panies, the  more  well-to-do  masters  possessed  the  means 
to  purchase  the  expensive  suits  of  livery  worn  by  members 
on  public  occasions,  and  so  came  to  be  called  ' '  of  the  liv- 
ery," in  contrast  to  those  "not  of  the  livery."  This  dis- 
tinction became  an  accepted  sign  of  class  or  station  in 
the  company  as  early  as  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
This  aristocratic  tendency  is  further  seen  in  the  prac- 
tical administration  of  affairs  of  the  wealthier  companies 
by  a  smaller,  exclusive  group  of  masters,  often  called  the 
"Court  of  Assistants."  Members  of  this  body  enjoyed 
greater  power  and  privileges  than  the  rest,  and  with  the 
wardens  and  officials  executed  the  important  preroga- 
tives of  gild  government.  By  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  old  democratic  organization  of  the  gild,  un- 
der which  journeymen  had  participated  in  some  of  the 
minor  elements  of  membership  and  looked  forward  to  full 
participation  when  they  should  become  masters,  and  ac- 
cording to  which  master  craftsmen  were  on  an  equality 

s  Quoted  by  Ashley,  ibid. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CRAFT-GILDS     135 

in  gild  counsels,  had  given  place  to  an  aristocratic  or- 
ganization based  on  class-interests  and  wealth.  The  gilds 
had  become  close-corporations,  controlled  by  and  in  the 
interest  of  a  comparatively  small  group  that  subordinated 
craft-interests  to  the  selfish  desire  to  perpetuate  itself. 

EXTERNAL,  INFLUENCES 

One  evidence  of  the  growing  power  of  the  central  gov- 
ernment in  England  is  seen  in  its  interference  with  in- 
ternal economic  activities.  As  time  passed,  the  craft- 
gilds  were  subjected  to  increasing  governmental  inter- 
ference. The  exclusiveness  of  the  later  organizations, 
the  complaints  of  the  people,  the  desire  to  provide  work- 
men with  sufficient  employment,  and  other  influences,  com- 
bined to  encourage  legislative  control  by  the  government.9 

This  intervention  by  the  government  in  craft-gild  con- 
cerns may  be  traced  through  a  series  of  acts  beginning 
with  that  of  1388,  which  demanded  detailed  informa- 
tion of  the  gild  system;  the  act  of  Henry  VI  in  1437, 
which  provided  for  registry  of  gilds  before  justices  of  the 
peace;  the  act  of  Henry  VII  in  1503-04,  which  set  in 
authority  over  the  craft  statutes,  the  highest  executive 
officials  of  the  crown,  and  empowered  them  to  settle  craft 
disputes;  the  acts  of  Henry  VIII,  in  1531  and  1537  re- 
spectively, which  forbade  the  membership  fee  to  exceed 
twenty  shillings,  and  provided  penalties  for  masters  who 
forced  their  apprentices  to  take  oath  not  to  set  up  inde- 
pendent establishments  after  their  period  of  indenture 
had  elapsed ;  the  drastic  act  of  Edward  VI  in  1547,  which 
confiscated  for  the  use  of  the  crown  all  property  of  the 
purely  social  and  religious  gilds  and  that  part  of  the 

9  Cunningham,  VV. — Growth  of  English  Industry  and  Commerce,  pp. 
506-25. 


136  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

property  of  the  craft-gilds  used  for  religious  purposes ; 10 
and  the  " Statute  of  Apprentices,"  in  the  year  1563  of 
the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  remained  a  law  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years.11 

The  Elizabethan  statute  of  apprentices,  while  primarily 
a  reenactment  of  previous  statutes,  extended  to  all  in- 
dustry and  made  general  certain  conditions  and  methods 
of  production  which  had  first  been  formulated  by  the 
craft-gilds.  Certain  features  of  the  old  system  had  im- 
proved the  quality  of  product  to  such  an  extent  that  they 
had  commended  themselves  to  all  observers,  and  it  was 
but  natural  for  the  government  to  require  their  introduc- 
tion into  new  industries  which  were  growing  up  outside 
the  sphere  of  craft  control.  This  famous  statute,  in  the 
first  place  made  labor  compulsory,  and  required  justices 
of  the  peace  to  meet  annually  in  each  locality  to  fix  the 
rate  of  wages  for  every  kind  of  industry;  in  the  second 
place,  every  person  who  engaged  in  any  trade  was  re- 
quired to  serve  a  seven  years '  apprenticeship ;  in  the  third 
place,  the  working  day  was  set  at  twelve  hours  in  sum- 
mer, and  while  daylight  lasted  in  winter;  and  in  the 
fourth  place,  except  for  piece-work,  all  engagements  were 
to  be  for  the  term  of  a  year,  with  six  months'  notice  in 
case  of  close  of  contract  by  either  party. 

It  is  evident  from  this  series  of  acts  that  the  exclusive 
control  of  industry  was  gradually  passing  away  from  the 
craft  authorities,  and  that  the  government  undertook  to 
regulate  the  relations  of  masters  to  journeymen  and  ap- 
prentices. Yet  economic  historians  find  there  was  no 
violent  break  in  the  continuity  of  craft  activity  caused 

10  Gibbins,  op.  tit.,  pp.  207-208. 

"Kramer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  40,  45,  61,  78-79,  85,  and  88-123;  also  Cheney, 
op.  cit.,  pp.  154-59. 


THE  DECLINE  OF  THE  CRAFT-GILDS     137 

by  these  acts,12  but  rather  a  gradual  transformation,  due 
to  slowly  acting  economic  causes  which  have  been  previ- 
ously mentioned  and  which  we  shall  subsequently  out- 
line. 

12  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  p.  155,  and  Kramer,  op.  cit.,  p.  86. 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  RISE  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  SYSTEM 

WE  have  mentioned  the  growth  of  a  class  of  wage-earn- 
ers within  the  gild  organization.  Outside  the  pale  of 
craft-gild  control,  there  had  always  been  artisans  who 
desired  to  work  unhindered  by  the  requirements  of  gild 
membership,  who  had  practised  the  deceitful  methods  con- 
demned by  the  craft  authorities,  or  who  had  prospered 
because  they  could  adopt  new  methods  and  devices  of 
manufacture  which  the  conservative  gild  officials  discour- 
aged. There  is  mention  of  the  existence  of  this  class  of 
workmen  in  ordinances  of  the  time,  and  through  the  fif- 
teenth and  sixteenth  centuries  we  find  the  efforts  of  gild 
authorities  to  prohibit  them  from  setting  up  business  in 
towns,  unless  they  had  the  approval  of  craft  officials,  and 
their  attempts  to  levy  fines  upon  masters  who  engaged 
as  journeymen  newcomers  who  had  not  paid  their  dues, 
were  aided  by  municipal  and  national  governments.  All 
signs  point  to  a  considerable  increase  in  numbers  of  the 
labor  class. 

THE    SPREAD   OF    INDUSTRY    TO    THE    COUNTRY 

The  unorganized  element  of  the  working-class  outside 
the  gilds  carried  on  their  industry  chiefly  in  the  small 
market-towns  and  villages  bordering  on  the  larger  towns 
of  London,  Norwich,  and  York.  The  fact  seems  to  have 
been  that  industry  spread  from  the  towns,  where  gild 
regulations  had  been  irksome,  to  the  country,  where  f  ree- 

138 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  SYSTEM     139 


dom  from  these  obstacles  might  be  enjoyed.  As  early 
as  the  fourteenth  century,  weavers  are  found  carrying 
on  their  trade  in  villages.  About  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  the  growth  of  this  rural  industry  received  great 
impetus  from  the  introduction  of  home-manufactured 
woolens.  Cloth  began  to  be  produced  in  accordance  with 
a  new  system  of  industrial  organization,  a  kind  of  organ- 
ization which  economic  historians  have  considered  dis- 
tinctive enough  to  be  characterized  as  a  separate  stage 
in  the  development  of  industry.  Such  marks  of  the  older 
handicraft  system  as  the  small  master  artisans  with  their 
journeymen  and  apprentices  still  remained,  and  the  work 
was  still  carried  on  in  the  artisan's  shop,  generally  with 
his  own  tools,  but  raw  materials  were  usually  obtained 
from  a  middleman  of  some  sort,  • 
and  the  finished  product  was 
always  given  over  to  the  latter. 
In  this  way,  the  domestic  sys- 
tem took  from  the  worker  all 
opportunity  of  making  a  profit. 
The  "domestic  system,"  as  it  is 
called,1  was  therefore  the  first 
step  away  from  the  handicraft 
system,  that  ideally  normal 
stage  of  the  workman's  com- 
plete control  over  all  steps  in 
the  process  of  production,  and 
it  was  the  first  step  towards  the 
modern  division  of  labor  which  culminates  in  the  "fac- 
tory system"  of  to-day. 

Thus  there  arose  in  woolen  manufacture  under  the 
domestic  system  of  industry,  a  class  of  merchants  or 

i  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  pp.  219-20;  Seligman,  op.  cit.,  pp.  92-3. 


FIG.  4. — A  loom  of  the 
sixteenth  century 


140  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

manufacturers  who  are  spoken  of  as  "clothiers,"  or 
"merchant-clothiers,"  in  the  records  of  the  time.  They 
purchased  the  raw  material  and  gave  it  out  to  the  carders 
or  combers,  spinners,  weavers,  fullers,  and  others,  who 
worked  in  their  home-shops  in  the  rural  hamlets.  After 
the  articles  were  completed,  these  middlemen-employers 
paid  the  master  weavers  or  other  craftsmen  who  had 
worked  up  the  raw  wool,  and  gathering  the  finished  ma- 
terial from  the  countryside,  disposed  of  the  product. 
Gibbins  says : 

This  wool  was  brought  home  and  sorted,  then  sent  out  to  the 
handcombers,  and  on  being  returned,  was  again  sent  out,  often 
to  long  distances,  to  be  spun.  It  was,  for  instance,  sent  from 
Yorkshire  to  Lancashire,  and  gangs  of  pack-borses  laden  with 
wool  were  always  to  be  met  plodding  over  the  hills  between  tbese 
two  counties.  In  the  same  way,  silk  was  sent  from  London  to 
Kendal  and  back.  When  spun,  the  tops,  or  fine  wool,  were  en- 
trusted to  some  shopkeeper  to  "put  out"  among  the  neighbors. 
Then  the  yarn  was  brought  back  and  sorted  by  the  manufacturer 
himself  into  hanks,  according  to  the  counts  and  twists.  The 
hand-weavers  would  next  come  for  their  warp  and  weft,  and  in 
due  time  bring  back  the  piece,  which  often  was  sent  elsewhere 
to  be  dyed.  Finally,  the  finished  cloth  was  sent  to  be  sold  at  the 
fairs,  or  at  the  local ' '  piece  halls ' '  of  such  central  towns  as  Leeds 
or  Halifax.2 

In  this  way,  those  steps  in  the  process  of  production 
which  immediately  preceeded  actual  manufacturing 
manipulation  and  immediately  followed  the  completion  of 
separate  articles  by  this  process,  were  taken  from  the 
control  of  the  workman  and  appropriated  by  a  separate 
class.  In  a  few  cases  the  small  manufacturer  still  pur- 
chased his  own  materials  and  delivered  the  finished  ar- 
ticle to  his  customer,  or  took  it  to  town  on  market  days. 

2  Op.  tit.,  pp.  338-9. 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  SYSTEM     141 

Here  we  have  a  real  employer  class  who  provided  the  raw 
material,  furnished  much  of  the  money  capital,  and  un- 
dertook to  sell  the  completed  goods.  Naturally,  the  con- 
dition of  domestic  manufacture  varied  widely  in  different 
regions.  In  general,  the  cottage  workman  was  more  in- 
dependent in  the  northern  than  in  the  southern  section  of 
England.  The  capitalistic  control  of  industry  in  the  south 
involved  not  merely  provision  of  raw  materials  by  the 
"merchant  manufacturer,"  but  in  some  cases,  such  as  in 
stocking  and  silk  manufacture,  went  so  far  as  to  extend 
to  the  ownership  of  the  artisan's  tools.  In  this  way  the 
rise  of  the  domestic  system  in  the  villages,  beginning  in 
woolen  manufactures  and  soon  extending  to  other  trades, 
undermined  the  gild  control  of  industry  and  slowly  pre- 
pared the  way  for  our  modern  factory  system. 

THE   SPREAD  OF   WOOLEN   MANUFACTURE 

An  important  element  in  the  domestic  system  was  the 
existence  of  a  number  of  small  master-manufacturers, 
who  were  entirely  independent  and  combined  small  farm- 
ing with  their  industrial  activities.3  Defoe  has  drawn 
for  us  an  interesting  picture  of  life  under  the  domestic 
system  as  it  existed  near  Halifax,  in  Yorkshire.  "The 
land  was  divided  into  small  inclosures,  from  two  acres  to 
six  or  seven  each,  seldom  more,  every  three  or  four  pieces 
of  land  having  a  house  belonging  to  them ;  hardly  a  house 
standing  out  of  speaking  distance  from  another.  We 
could  see  at  every  house  a  tenter,  and  on  almost  every 
tenter  a  piece  of  cloth  or  kersie  or  shalloon.  At  every 
considerable  house  there  was  a  manufactory.  Every 
clothier  keeps  one  horse  at  least  to  carry  his  manufac- 
tures to  the  market ;  and  every  one  generally  keeps  a  cow 

3  Toynbee,  A. — The  Industrial  Revolution,  London,  1902,  p.  53. 


142  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

or  two  or  more  for  his  family.  By  this  means  the  small 
pieces  of  inclosed  land  about  each  house  are  occupied,  for 
they  scarce  sow  corn  enough  to  feed  their  poultry.  The 
houses  are  full  of  lusty  fellows,  some  at  the  dye-vat,  some 
at  the  looms,  others  dressing  cloths ;  the  women  and  chil- 
dren carding  or  spinning;  being  all  employed,  from  the 
youngest  to  the  oldest. ' ' 4 

This  transition  stage  of  industry,  from  the  more  or 
less  stable  handicraft  to  the  more  or  less  stable  factory 
system  of  to-day,  is  so  interesting  that  two  more  quota- 
tions will  not  be  amiss.  According  to  one  description5 
of  life  in  the  northern  counties  of  England: 

The  village  combined  agricultural  with  industrial  occupation ; 
the  click  of  the  loom  was  heard  in  the  cottages;  the  farmyards 
and  the  fields,  the  cottages  and  the  allotment  gardens,  made  a 
delightful  picture  of  rural  life.  The  land  was  mainly  freehold ; 
the  farmers  were  of  the  yeoman  class,  and  not  infrequently  com- 
bined the  calling  of  a  clothier  or  master  manufacturer  along  with 
that  of  farming.  The  farmer 's  wife,  although  born  with  a  silver 
spoon,  was  industrious  and  thrifty ;  with  her  own  hand  she  would 
churn  the  butter,  make  the  cheese,  cure  the  bacon  and  ham,  or 
bake  the  bread ;  her  daughters  would  assist  in  spinning  the  yarn, 
or  knitting  the  stockings ;  and  from  the  cloths  woven  under  their 
supervision  they  would,  with  the  assistance  of  the  village  dress- 
maker, make  their  own  dresses.  If  you  entered  one  of  the  cot- 
tages, you  would  find  the  master  of  the  house  in  the  ' '  chamber, ' ' 
sitting  at  the  loom,  busy  throwing  the  shuttle,  weaving  a  piece 
of  cloth;  his  daughter  would  be  sitting  at  the  wheel,  spinning 
wef c ;  and  the  good  wife  would  be  busy  with  her  domestic  duties. 
One  son  would  be  out  working  on  the  land  for  the  farmer;  an- 
other would  be  working  on  the  weaver's  allotment.  Down  in 
their  little  allotment  plot,  they  grow  their  own  vegetables,  and  a 
little  crop  of  oats  which  they  have  ground  into  oatmeal  for  mak- 
ing their  porridge ;  they  also  keep  a  pig  or  two,  and  provide  their 

*  Tour,  Hi,  pp.  144-6. 

6  Illinffworth,  T. — Distribution  Reform,  London,  1885,  p.  81. 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  SYSTEM     143 

own  bacon  and  ham.  They  are  on  good  terms  with  the  master- 
manufacturer — that  is,  the  gentleman  who  gives  them  warp  and 
weft  to  weave  into  cloth.  .  .  .  Their  chief  articles  of  food  are 
produced  from  the  land  immediately  surrounding  them.  Their 
means  of  subsistence  and  comfort  are  not  to  be  computed  by  the 
amount  of  their  earnings  in  money-wages,  but  the  produce  of 
their  bit  of  land,  and  the  ease  and  cheapness  with  which  they  can 
obtain  other  necessities. 

This  simple  system  was  pretty  well  diffused  through- 
out the  country-side,  and  the  conditions  of  work  just  men- 
tioned show  that  the  wage-earning  class  enjoyed  many 
comforts  and  advantages  which  have  been  denied  them 
under  the  factory  system.  On  this  point  Gibbins  re- 
marks : 

For  one  thing,  they  still  lived  more  or  less  in  the  country,  and 
were  not  crowded  together  in  stifling  alleys  and  courts,  or  in  long 
rows  of  bare,  smoke-begrimed  streets,  in  houses  like  so  many  dirty 
rabbit-hutches.  Even  if  the  artisan  did  live  in  a  town  at  that 
time,  the  town  was  very  different  from  the  abode  of  smoke  and 
dirt  which  now  prevails  in  manufacturing  districts.  It  had  a 
more  rural  character.  There  were  no  tall  chimneys  belching  out 
clouds  of  evil  smoke ;  no  huge,  hot  factories  with  their  hundreds 
of  windows  blazing  forth  a  lurid  light  in  the  darkness,  and 
rattling  with  the  whirr  and  din  of  ceaseless  machinery  by  day 
and  night.  There  were  no  gigantic  blast-furnaces  rising  amid 
blackened  heaps  of  cinders,  or  chemical  works  poisoning  the  fields 
and  the  trees  for  miles  around.  These  were  yet  to  come.  The 
factory  and  the  furnace  was  almost  unknown.  Work  was  carried 
on  by  the  artisan  in  his  little  stone  or  brick  house,  with  the  work- 
shop inside,  where  the  wool  for  the  weft  was  carded  and  spun 
by  his  wife  and  daughters,  and  the  cloth  was  woven  by  himself 
and  his  sons.  He  had  also,  in  nearly  all  cases,  his  own  plot  of 
land  near  the  house,  which  provided  him  both  with  food  and 
recreation,  for  he  could  relieve  the  monotony  of  weaving  by  culti- 
vating his  little  patch  of  ground,  or  feeding  his  pigs  and  poultry.6 

e  Op.  tit.,  pp.  327-8. 


PART   IV.    GREAT   SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS 
OF  MODERN  TIMES 


CHAPTER  XIII 
INTRODUCTORY 

IN  recent  times  there  have  occurred  certain  great  trans- 
formations in  human  society  which  find  their  causes  in 
three  changes  in  economic  and  social  relations  that  have 
come  with  such  a  degree  of  suddenness  as  to  be  veritable 
revolutions.  Without  an  understanding  of  these  three 
great  revolutions,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  fully  appreci- 
ate the  meaning  of  the  problems  of  the  modern  social  or- 
der. For  centuries  during  antiquity,  and  for  centuries 
after  the  decline  of  Roman  civilization,  the  economic  basis 
of  social  relations  experienced  no  rapid  or  thoroughgoing 
change,  but  almost  simultaneously  there  came,  in  the  later 
eighteenth  and  extending  through  the  nineteenth  and  early 
twentieth  centuries,  fundamental  changes  in  agricultural 
and  manufacturing  industries,  and  in  transportation  and 
communication. 

It  is  characteristic  of  each  of  these  great  revolutions 
that  their  standardizing  effect  spread  with  relative  ra- 
pidity throughout  the  populations  of  Western  Europe  and 
America.  In  this  respect  they  differed  from  political 
revolutions  which,  even  if  their  effect  extends,  are  almost 
always  profoundly  modified  by  the  existing  and  tradi- 
tional political  structure  of  each  locality.  There  seems, 
thus,  to  be  in  these  three  great  revolutions  described,  a 
massive  elemental  character  suggestive  of  natural,  rather 
than  of  man-made  law,  for  before  their  majestic  sweep, 
traditional  ways  and  usages  have  everywhere  crumbled 

147 


148  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

and  given  place  to  standardized  production  and  exchange, 
and  the  other  great  uniformities  of  modern  life. 

It  is  as  a  result  of  these  three  revolutions  that  we  are 
able  to  say  that  the  very  basis  of  modern  social  organiza- 
tion differs  significantly  from  the  social  organization  of 
antiquity,  or  even  of  later  medieval  times.  The  great 
common  agent  of  these  revolutions  was  and  is  machinery 
and  mechanical  power. 

The  first  two  revolutions  modified  the  existing  eco- 
nomic structure  and  brought  a  sweeping  change  in  the 
ratio  of  man-power  to  agricultural  and  manufacturing 
production.  It  is  estimated  that  with  modern  farm  ma- 
chinery and  the  new  methods  of  agriculture,  fifty  men  can 
do  the  work  and  produce  the  supplies  that  five  hundred 
peasants  without  these  improvements  were  able  to  pro- 
duce. The  four  hundred  and  fifty  men  thus  released 
from  agriculture,  and  perhaps  from  rural  residence,  en- 
tered industry  and  commerce,  or  went  to  swell  the  popu- 
lations of  towns  and  cities. 

Turning  from  agriculture,  we  find  that  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  screws,  as  an  example,  the  ratio  of  machine  to 
hand  production  is  4491  to  1.  That  is,  a  man  with  mod- 
ern machinery  can  produce  over  four  thousand  times  as 
many  screws  in  the  same  space  as  he  could  produce  by 
hand  labor.  For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
unskilled  and  untrained  workers  can  produce  standard- 
ized articles  of  a  quality  equal  to,  and  sometimes  the  su- 
perior of,  those  formerly  produced  by  the  painstaking 
labor  of  highly  skilled  artisans.  All  this  has  been  made 
possible  by  machinery.  Consequently,  there  has  been  an 
increasing  demand  for  cheap  labor,  a  growing  concentra- 
tion of  industry  in  certain  centers,  and  a  redistribution  of 
population  from  rural  to  urban  conditions.  These  trans- 


INTRODUCTORY  149 

formations  have  involved  changes  which  will  be  described 
in  the  following  chapters. 

The  third  great  revolution,  that  which  has  occurred  in 
methods  of  transportation  and  in  the  mechanism  of  com- 
munication, has  profoundly  affected  the  thought-life,  as 
well  as  the  economic  life,  of  the  masses  by  introducing 
artificial  motor  power  into  transportation,  and  by  bring- 
ing into  use  a  new  and  elaborate  mechanism  of  communi- 
cation. Before  the  standardizing  influence  of  these 
changes,  local  prejudices,  superstitions,  and  provincial 
limitations  are  melting  away.  The  increased  facilities 
for  travel  and  personal  mobility  in  general,  combined 
with  the  remarkably  efficient  mechanical  devices  for  the 
transmission  of  intelligence,  constitute  a  long  step  in  the 
direction  of  equality  of  opportunity,  and  supply  a  firm 
and  enduring  basis  for  democracy. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION 

VIEWED  in  its  true  historical  background,  the  rapid 
growth  of  cities  in  recent  times  is  not  such  a  disturbing 
phenomenon  as  our  study  of  Greek  and  Roman  experience 
with  urban  increase  might  lead  us  to  expect.  For,  par- 
allel with  it,  there  has  been  an  accelerating  improvement 
in  agricultural  methods.  Hence,  we  are  not  in  such  im- 
mediate danger  of  experiencing  an  excess  of  consump- 
tive activities  over  productive  activities  as  were  the  peo- 
ples of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome.  The  economic  and  in- 
dustrial foundations  of  the  civilization  of  Western  Eu- 
rope possess  far  greater  breadth  and  depth  than  those  of 
ancient  civilizations. 

We  must  remember  that  the  predominant  factor  in  the 
agricultural  economies  of  Greece  and  Rome,  for  the  pe- 
riod we  have  studied,  was  slave  cultivation.  It  was  there- 
fore inevitable  that  technique  should  be  more  or  less 
primitive,  and  the  results  inadequate  and  wasteful.  The 
primitive  fertility  of  the  soil  was  used  up,  and  human,  as 
well  as  natural  resources,  were  exploited  to  the  fullest 
extent.  We  have  seen  how  it  became  impossible  to  pro- 
vide sufficient  food  for  the  great  metropolitan  districts 
of  antiquity,  largely  because  of  these  same  inefficient 
agricultural  methods,  and  we  have  observed  that  the 
situation  was  complicated  by  an  unwise  public  policy 
which  insisted  on  the  necessity  of  providing  grain  for 
the  urban  populace  at  reduced  rates.  Meanwhile,  the 

150 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       151 

state  neglected  to  encourage  manufacturing  industry, 
practically  the  only  activity  which  might  be  relied  upon 
to  give  stability  to  an  unbalanced  national  economy,  and 
provide  means  with  which  to  pay  for  importations  of 
food-stuffs.  This  deplorable  situation  was  still  further 
complicated  by  the  traditional  obstacles  of  preference  for 
agricultural  occupations,  and  the  tendency  to  despise  all 
those  who  were  engaged  in  commerce  and  manufacturing. 

Contrast    with    this    ^  SL~iL*. 

state  of  affairs  the 
more  wholesome  and 
rational  economy  of 
to-day.  Agriculture  is  FlG"  5-An  old  Saxon  P1™"1000  A-n- 
now  based  upon  the  productive  labor  of  free  men  in  com- 
petitive and  cooperative  activity.  The  application  of 
capital  on  a  large  scale  has  permitted  an  intensive  type 
of  cultivation.  Exact  methods  have  been  so  widely  ap- 
plied to  the  whole  range  of  agricultural  economy  that  it 
has  become  a  science  in  itself.  Modern  governments,  es- 
pecially the  Federal  Government  of  the  United  States, 
have  used  their  powers  to  protect,  encourage,  and  stimu- 
late agriculture.  Moreover,  at  the  same  time  that  agricul- 
ture has  been  developing  a  highly  organized  technique, 
the  industrial  activities  of  modern  states  have  experi- 
enced an  unprecedented  expansion.  The  combined  effect 
of  these  tendencies  has  made  it  possible  for  a  compara- 
tively small  force  of  labor  to  obtain  from  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil  an  increasingly  greater  supply  of  food-stuffs 
with  which  the  growing  populations  of  urban  and  indus- 
trial centers  can  be  easily  maintained.  In  other  words, 
the  modern  growth  of  cities  is  not  necessarily  an  un- 
healthy sign,  for  the  attendant  growth  of  manufacturing 
industry  and  agricultural  activity  produce  the  necessities 


152  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

to  satisfy  the  increasing  demand  in  a  perfectly  natural 
manner. 

From  what  has  just  been  said,  the  reader  will  appreci- 
ate the  importance  of  a  brief  study  of  modern  agricul- 
tural evolution  in  order  to  gain  a  clear  understanding  of 
the  historical  background  of  social  economy.  We  shall, 
therefore,  outline  rather  briefly  the  main  influences  and 
factors  in  the  revolution  of  English  agriculture  during 
the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries. 

The  agricultural  revolution  in  England  has  been  se- 
lected for  study  in  preference  to  the  experience  of  other 
nations  because  the  factors  responsible  for  its  coming 
may  be  readily  understood.  In  England  the  transforma- 
tion of  agricultural  economy  meant  three  things:  the 
concentration  of  ownership  and  control  of  lands  in  a 
diminishing  body  of  proprietors;  the  enclosure  of  com- 
mon lands  which  had  for  centuries  been  the  chief  means 
of  support  of  small  farmers;  and  the  consequent  reduc- 
tion of  rural  workers  to  the  status  of  a  wage-earning, 
agricultural  class,  along  with  an  exodus  of  population 
from  the  country.1  }  But  before  we  examine  the  steps  in 
this  important  transition,  it  will  be  well  to  make  a  brief 
survey  of  its  historical  backgrounds. 

SHEEP-RAISING   AND   ENCLOSURES'  FOR   PASTURAGE 

During  the  early  Middle  Ages,  the  prevailing  economic 
activity  was  agriculture.  What  little  manufacture  was 
necessary  to  supply  the  needs  of  the  people  was  carried 
on  by  those  who  tilled  the  soil.2  We  have  already  had 
occasion  to  trace  the  rise  of  a  separate  manufacturing 

1  Ogg,  F.  A.,  Social  Progress  in  Contemporary  Europe,  New  York,  1912, 
p.  63. 

2  Ashley,  op.  tit.,  p.  99. 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       153 

class,  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  agriculture  was 
the  chief  occupation  of  the  English  laboring  classes  until 
after  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  .  Of  the  three 
great  stages  which  mark  its  evolution,  agriculture  had 
passed  through  the  first  stage,  that  of  the  old  open-field 
husbandry  of  early  times,  and  had  entered  upon  its  sec- 
ond stage,  that  of  convertible  husbandry.  ^At  this  stage 
the  land  is  used  alternately  during  a  term  of  years  for 
pasture  and  for  crops — a  system  which  necessitates  en- 
closure of  arable  land  by  fences  or  hedges.^  This,  then, 
was  the  condition  of  English  agriculture  at  the  time  we 


FIG.  6. — A  Colonial  plow 

are  now  considering,  the  period  which  preceded  the  agri- 
cultural revolution. 

fFor  a  century  after  1272,  the  landowner  remained  also 
a  cultivator,  and  lived  upon  his  land.  But  this  method 
of  cultivation  gradually  disappeared  after  the  Great 
Plague  (1348).  The  landowner  became  a  mere  rent- 
receiver,  although  the  great  feature  of  this  transforma- 
tion was  the  growth  of  the  practice  of  enclosure,  accord- 
ing to  which  large  tracts  of  farm  land  were  turned  into 
pasture  for  sheep,  and  fenced  accordingly/) 
Thus  it  was  that  after  the  Great  Plague  and  on  through 


154  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

the  sixteenth  century  the  really  significant  changes  in 
agriculture  were  to  be  found  in  the  uses  to  which  land 
was  put,  rather  than  in  methods  of  tilling  the  soil.  We 
have  had  occasion  to  mention  the  steady  growth  of  home 
manufacture  of  woolens.  This  provided  a  considerable 
home  market,  in  addition  to  the  existing  market  among 
the  cloth  manufactures  of  Flanders,  for  the  products  of 
sheep-farming.  Moreover,  labor  had  now  become  so 
costly  that  a  use  of  the  land  in  pasturage,  which  required 
comparatively  little  labor,  was  more  economical  than  or- 
dinary tillage.  Hence,  large  tracts  of  land  were  taken 
out  of  cultivation  and  converted  into  pastures  for  sheep- 
raising.  Yet  apart  from  pasturage,  cultivation  was  still 
carried  on  in  the  old  ways. 

The  agrarian  situation  created  by  the  system  of  en- 
closures in  the  sixteenth  century  was  a  serious  one.  It 
had  become  so  profitable  for  landowners  to  go  in  for 
sheep-farming,  that  they  turned  their  arable  land  into 
pastures,  with  small  consideration  for  the  interests  of 
the  tenant  class.  Small  tenants  were  summarily  evicted, 
so  that  "in  this  way  it  comes  to  pass  that  these  miserable 
people,  men,  women,  husbands,  orphans,  parents  with  lit- 
tle children,  are  all  forced  to  change  their  seats,  without 
knowing  where  to  go." 3  The  rents  of  the  larger  tenants 
were  raised  to  ruinous  figures,  in  one  recorded  instance 
from  £4  to  £16  a  year.4  Finally  the  large  landowners 
took  the  common  lands  of  the  poor  by  enclosures 

The  enclosures  made  at  this  time  were  of  three  kinds : 
the  enclosing  of  the  lord's  demesne;  the  enclosing  of 
certain  strips  of  land  which  belonged  to  the  lord  of  the 

s  More,  Thomas,  Utopia,  Morley's  ed.,  p.  64. 

*  Latimer,  First  Sermon  before  Edward  VI,~  cited  in  Gibbins,  op.  cit., 
p.  213. 


manor,  but  which  were  intermixed  with  the  strips  of  ten- 
ants in  the  open  fields;  and  the  enclosing  of  common 
fields,  and  even  the  tenant's  own  strips.5  The  first  and 
second  kind  of  enclosures  were  within  the  right  of  the 
lord,  but  the  latter  was  frequently  abused,  and  conven- 
ient pieces  of  tenant's  strips  were  sometimes  taken.  It 
was  the  third  type  of  enclosure,  however,  that  gave  the 
most  trouble  and  produced  the  greatest  injustice  and  mis- 
ery among  the  people. 

Gibbins  presents  interesting  evidence  of  the  results  of 
enclosing,  taken  from  popular  songs  and  parliamentary 
documents.6  In  1536,  a  petition  complains  of  the  new  use 
to  which  land  is  put,  which  "hath  not  only  been  begun  by 
divers  gentlemen,  but  also  by  divers  and  many  merchant 
adventurers,  cloth-makers,  goldsmiths,  butchers,  tanners, 
and  other  artificers,  and  unreasonable  covetous  persons 
which  doth  encroach  daily  many  farms,  more  than  they 
can  occupy,  in  tilth  of  corn — ten,  twelve,  fourteen,  or  six- 
teen farms  in  one  man's  hands  at  once  ...  in  time  past 
there  hath  been  in  every  farm  a  good  house  kept,  and  in 
some  of  them  three,  four,  five,  or  six  plows  kept  and 
daily  occupied  to  the  great  comfort  and  relief  of  your  sub- 
jects, poor  and  rich.  But  now,  by  reason  of  so  many 
farms  engrossed  in  one  man's  hands,  which  cannot  till 
them,  the  plows  be  decayed,  and  the  farmhouses  and 
other  dwellings,  so  that  when  there  was  in  a  town  twenty 
or  thirty  dwelling-houses,  they  be  now  decayed,  plows 
and  all  the  people  clean  gone,  and  the  churches  down,  and 
no  more  parishioners  in  many  parishes,  but  a  neatherd 
and  a  shepherd,  instead  of  three  score  or  four  score  of 

s  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  213-14;  Ashley,  op.  cit.,  pp.  285-87. 
6  Op.  cit.,  pp.  215-18, 


156  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

/• 

persons."  7  Sir  Thomas  More  speaks  of  the  increase  of 
pasturage  in  England,  "by  which  sheep  may  be  said  to 
devour  men  and  to  unpeople  towns  as  well  as  small  vil- 
lages." He  proceeds  to  explain  the  terrible  increase  of 
pauperism  as  due  to  the  enclosures,  for  the  small  farmers 
"would  willingly  work,  but  can  find  none  that  will  hire 
them,  for  there  is  no  more  occasion  for  country  labor,  to 
which  they  have  been  bred,  when  there  is  no  arable 
ground  left."8  According  to  Froude,9  "the  absorption 
of  the  small  farms  had  assumed  proportions  mischievous 
and  dangerous.  .  .  .  The  great  cattle-owners,  in  order  to 
escape  the  sheep  statutes,  held,  their  stock  in  the  names  of 
their  sons  or  servants;  the  highways  and  villages  were 
covered,  in  consequence,  with  forlorn  and  outcast  fam- 
ilies, now  reduced  to  beggary,  who  had  been  the  occupiers 
of  comfortable  holdings;  and  thousands  of  dispossessed 
tenants  made  their  way  to  London,  clamoring  in  the  midst 
of  their  starving  children  at  the  doors  of  the  courts  of 
law  for  redress  which  they  could  not  obtain."  A  com- 
mission, appointed  in  1548,  brought  back  a  report  of  the 
distressing  agrarian  situation.  The  complaints  are 
found  voiced  in  ballads,  such  as  the  following : 

The  towns  go  down,  the  land  decays, 
Great  men  maketh  now-a-days 
A  sheep-cote  in  the  church.10 

This  depopulation  of  certain  sections  of  rural  England 
and  the  accompanying  trend  of  population  cityward, 
brings  to  mind  the  somewhat  similar  phenomena  in 

7  Rolls  House  M.S.,  miscellaneous,  second  series  (Froude),  854. 
s  Op.  cit.,  pp.  64-5. 
»  History,  iv,  p.  353. 

10  Now-a-dayes,  a  ballad  (Ballad  Society),  lines  157-60;  quoted  by  Gib- 
bins,  op.  cit.,  p.  216. 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       157 

Greece  and  Rome.  But  the  analogy  is  subject  to  the 
qualifications  mentioned  in  the  opening  paragraphs  of 
this  chapter,  for  we  shall  see  that  the  worst  consequences 
of  the  process  of  land  consolidation  were  largely  offset 
by  improvements  in  agricultural  technic. 

IMPROVEMENTS  IN  AGRICULTURE 

Agriculture  was  still  the  greatest  industrial  occupation 
of  England  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Competitive  rents 
were  for  the  first  time  coming  into  use,  and  are  an  indi- 
cation of  progress.  The  capital  invested  in  land  was  in- 


- 


Prom  a  photograph  by  Steele  &  Co. 

FIG.  7. — A  steam  plow  at  work 

creasing,  the  breeding  of  horses  and  cattle  advanced,  and 
the  use  of  natural  fertilizers  became  more  general.  New 
vegetables  were  introduced  into  the  country  by  refugees 
from  the  Continent. 

Enclosures  presently  came  to  be  made  for  the  purpose 
of  carrying  on  improved  methods  of  tillage,  rather  than 
for  the  sole  sake  of  sheep-raising.  There  was  a  gradual 


158  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

revival  in  arable  farming,  and  as  Gibbins  says,  "the 
special,  characteristic  feature  of  the  seventeenth  century 
is  the  utilization  of  fallow  for  roots,  ...  "  "•  Writers 
on  agricultural  subjects  appeared  and  considerable  at- 
tention was  paid  to  different  kinds  of  manures.12  In  the 
eastern  counties,  the  fens  were  drained  and  the  large  dis- 
tricts thus  reclaimed,  increased  agricultural  prosperity. 
Winter  roots  (turnips)  came  into  use,  and  in  the  eight- 
eenth century  there  was  an  extension  of  artificial  pas- 
tures and  an  increase  in  the  use  of  clover,  sainfoin,  and 
rye-grass. 

The  improvements  made  in  fodder  were  naturally  fol- 
lowed by  gains  in  the  art  of  stock-breeding.  From  the 
fourteenth  to  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  fatted 
ox  seldom  weighed  much  over  four  hundred  pounds. 
Compared  with  this  the  eighteenth-century  fatted  ox  often 
weighed  more  than  eight  hundred  pounds.13  Young  14 
estimates  the  value  of  stock  at  nearly  £110,000,000  be- 
tween 1700  and  1777.  The  increased  numbers  of  stock 
involved  production  of  larger  quantities  of  manure,  and 
this  in  turn  encouraged  a  more  intelligent  use  of  ferti- 
lizers. 

Agriculture  was  now  carried  on  with  a  view  to  the  mar- 
ket. The  old  practice  of  tillage  for  subsistence  alone 
had  largely  given  place  to  competitive  methods.15  Yet 
survivals  of  primitive  culture  were  still  to  be  seen  in 
the  common-field  system  which  existed  in  sections  of  Hal- 
lamshire  and  Yorkshire.16  "Never,"  says  Young,  "were 

11  P.  267. 

12  Cunningham,  Growth  of  English  Industry  and  Commerce,  vol.  IT,  p.  545. 
is  Toynbee,  A.,  The  Industrial  Revolution,  London,  1902,  pp.  43-4. 

i*  'Northern  Tour,  iv.  pp.  340-41 ;  Eastern  Tour,  iv,  p.  455. 
is  Cunningham,  op.  cit.,  pp.  109-10. 
is  Young,  A.,  Northern  Tour,  ii,  1. 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       159 

more  miserable  crops  seen  than  the  spring  ones  in  the 
common  fields ;  absolutely  beneath  contempt. "  17  It  ap- 
pears that  there  were  three  causes  for  this  deficient  stage 
of  tillage :  first,  under  the  common-field  system,  no  proper 
rotation  of  crops  was  possible,  and  consequently  the  same 
course  of  cropping  continued  year  after  year;  second, 
much  time  was  lost  by  laborers  and  cattle  "in  traveling 
to  many  dispersed  pieces  of  land  from  one  end  of  a 
parish  to  another;"18  and  third,  there  were  perpetual 
quarrels  over  the  rights  of  pasture  and  boundaries. 
These  reasons  make  clear  why  there  was  a  close  connec- 
tion between  the  practice  of  enclosing,  and  improved 
methods  of  agriculture. 

THE   NEW  PEEIOD  OF  ENCLOSURES  AND  THE  AGRARIAN 
REVOLUTION 

The  advent  of  capitalism,  and  the  introduction  of  in- 
vention seem  to  have  been  the  two  main  agencies  which 
precipitated  the  agrarian  revolution  of  the  eighteenth 
century.19  Yet  it  is  a  highly  significant  fact  that  while 
these  agrarian  changes  were  making  possible  the  support 
of  growing  town  populations,  and  at  the  same  time  stimu- 
lating the  drawing-off  of  surplus  country  population  to 
the  cities,  the  industrial  revolution  and  the  rise  of  the 
factory  system,  was  encouraging  the  dislodgment  of 
large  numbers  of  people  who  had  always  lived  by  agricul- 
ture. It  is  therefore  clear  that  the  two  great  revolu- 
tions in  methods  of  production  interacted  one  upon  the 
other,  and  their  very  conjunction  in  time  helped  to  effect 
the  consummation  of  the  different  tendencies  that  were 
at  work  in  each  group. 

IT  Southern  Tour,  ed.  of  1772,  p.  384. 

is  View  of  the  Agriculture  of  Oxfordshire,  p.  100. 

i»  Ogg,  op.  cit.,  p.  69. 


160 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


Better  cropping,  improvements  in  the  art  of  cattle- 
breeding,  and  the  introduction  of  machinery,  were  im- 
portant elements  in  the  new  agriculture  which  inevitably 
involved  the  use  of  capital  in  larger  quantities  than  ever 
before,  and  necessitated  large-scale  cultivation.  The  ten- 
dency towards  urban  growth,  which  we  have  mentioned 
in  connection  with  the  earlier  progress  of  industry,  was 


FIG.  8. — Plowing  by  automobile  tractor 

enormously  accelerated  by  the  rise  of  great  industrial 
centers,  in  consequence  of  the  appearance  of  the  factory 
system  and  machine  production.  The  farms  of  the  older 
sort,  cultivated  for  the  support  of  local  tenants,  gave  way 
before  the  growing  urban  demand  for  foods,  and  small 
holdings  were  enlarged  and  converted  into  manufactories 
of  grain  and  meat.  The  average  husbandman  of  the 
eighteenth  century  possessed  an  amount  of  capital  and 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       161 

land  wholly  inadequate  to  supply  the  increased  demand. 
The  imperative  need  for  more  efficient  methods  revived 
the  practice  of  enclosures,  and  the  small  farmer  lost  his 
rights  in  the  common  lands  of  the  parish,  and  was  speed- 
ily reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  mere  country  wage- 
earner.  The  new  agriculture,  therefore,  involved  the 
virtual  disappearance  of  the  cottager  class. 

THE    DECAY    OF    THE    YEOMANRY 

The  new  movement  for  enclosure  set  in  early  in  the 
second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  proceeded  with 
a  rapidity  and  boldness  that  surpassed  the  earlier  period. 
Between  1760  and  1843,  fully  seven  million  acres  were 
enclosed.  There  were  good  arguments  advanced  for  en- 
closure. The  old  subdivided  and  open-field  system  of 
cultivation  was  uneconomical.  Enclosure  meant  redis- 
tribution of  the  open  fields  and  waste-land  and  meadows 
of  the  parish  among  former  possessors  of  land-rights  in  a 
manner  that  would  secure  to  each  person  one  continuous 
and  enclosed  tract  equivalent  in  area  to  his  former  scat- 
tered holdings  in  the  open  fields,  together  with  the  rights 
in  meadow  and  waste-land  associated  with  his  former 
holding. 

Unfortunately,  this  redistribution  of  agricultural  hold- 
ings, which  had  much  to  commend  it,  was  accomplished  in 
a  most  iniquitous  manner.  The  process  of  enclosure  was 
effected  by  compulsion,  as  well  as  by  consent.  The  au- 
thorities of  the  parish  made  the  change  themselves,  when- 
ever it  was  possible  to  secure  the  unanimous  consent  of 
those  who  enjoyed  land-rights  within  the  parish.  In 
practice,  it  was  difficult  to  secure  general  consent,  and 
the  usual  procedure  therefore,  involved  procuring  the  as- 
sent of  the  possessors  of  four  fifths  the  aggregate  value 


162  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

of  the  land  concerned,  and  then  the  passage  of  a  special 
act  by  Parliament  which  authorized  the  enclosure,  and 
forced  the  dissenting  minority  to  agree.  Although  every 
person  deprived  of  his  former  rights  received  compensa- 
tion either  in  land  or  money,  the  new  arrangement  usu- 
ally was  unfavorable  to  the  small  holder,  for  the  enclosure 
measures  were,  as  a  rule,  drawn  up  by  large  landholders 
and  persons  of  influence  in  the  localities  concerned. 
Moreover,  the  economic  situation  of  the  person  of  small 
means  was  still  further  injured  by  the  disappearance  of 
the  old  by-employments  of  home-manufacture,  which  had 
contributed  so  much  to  make  the  lot  of  the  farmer-domes- 
tic manufacturer  a  comfortable  one.  This  situation  came 
about  because  the  domestic  system,  as  we  shall  soon  see, 
was  giving  way  before  the  factory  system. 

The  decay  of  the  English  yeomanry,  unlike  the  some- 
what similar  decline  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  yeomanry 
which  had  also  involved  transfer  of  the  property  of  one 
class  to  another,  was  a  sudden  and  a  silent  revolution. 
Toynbee  says:  "A  person  ignorant  of  our  history  dur- 
ing the  intervening  period  might  surmise  that  a  great 
exterminatory  war  had  taken  place,  or  a  violent  social 
revolution,  which  had  caused  a  transfer  of  the  property 
of  one  class  to  another.  But  though  the  surmise  in  this 
particular  form  would  be  incorrect,  we  are  nevertheless 
justified  in  saying  that  a  revolution  of  incalculable  im- 
portance had  taken  place, — a  revolution,  though  so  silent, 
of  as  great  importance  as  the  political  revolution  of 
1831.  "20 

The  class  thus  demoralized  and  driven  from  the  coun- 
try-side, was  the  small  freeholders  who  had  formed  one 
sixth  of  the  population  of  England  down  to  the  close  of 

20  Op.  cit.,  p.  59. 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       163 

the  seventeenth  century.  "This  sort  of  people  have  a 
certain  preeminence  and  more  estimation  than  laborers 
and  the  common  sort  of  artificers,  and  these  commonly 
live  wealthily,  keep  good  houses,  and  travel  to  get  riches. 
They  are  also,  for  the  most  part,  farmers  to  gentlemen, 
or  at  the  leastwise,  artificers ;  and  with  grazing,  frequent- 
ing of  markets  and  keeping  of  servants,  do  come  to  great 
wealth,  insomuch  that  many  of  them  are  able  to,  and  do, 


FIG.  9. — Gasoline  motor  plow 

buy  the  lands  of  unthrifty  gentlemen,  and  often  sending 
their  sons  to  the  schools,  to  the  Universities,  and  to  the 
Inns  of  Court,  or  otherwise  leaving  them  sufficient  lands 
whereon  they  may  live  without  labor,  do  make  them  by 
these  means  to  become  gentlemen.  These  were  they  that 
in  times  past  made  all  France  afraid. ' ' 21 

21  Harrison,  Description  of  England,  bk.  Ill,  ch.  iv,  page  13 ;  quoted  in 
Gibbins,  op.  cit,  pp.  276-77. 


164  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

The  law  locks  up  the  man  or  woman 
Who  steals  the  goose  from  off  the  common; 
But  leaves  the  greater  villain  loose 
Who  steals  the  common  from  the  goose. 

So  runs  a  protest  in  current  doggerel  of  the  time.  But 
the  decay  of  this  sturdy  class  of  small  farmers  was  not  a 
result  of  the  practice  of  enclosure  alone-;  there  were  other 
influences  at  work.  Among  them  Gibbins  mentions  the 
''Statute  of  Frauds "  of  1677,  according  to  which  all  hold- 
ings in  land  not  created  by  deed,  were  treated  as  tenan- 
cies at  will  only,  a  law  which  weakened  the  position  of 
the  yeomen.  Then  the  custom  of  primogeniture  and 
strict  settlements  tended  to  limit  the  subdivision  of  land 
into  tracts  which  small  holders  could  afford  to  buy. 
Again,  the  ever-increasing  poor-rates  of  the  eighteenth 
and  nineteenth  centuries  became  a  burden  which  small 
landholders  had  to  bear.  Farm  laborers-  could  not  main- 
tain themselves  on  the  wages  paid  by  large  employers  of 
agricultural  labor,  and  so  it  resulted  in  transferring  the 
burden  of  support  by  taxation  to  the  shoulders  of  the 
yeoman  class.22  Finally,  wages  were  falling  and  rents 
rising. 

By  1845  the  agricultural  revolution  had  run  its  course, 
and  the  process  of  readjustment  had  created  ''three  great 
classes  of  men  engaged  in  the  English  agriculture  of  later 
times  and  of  to-day:  (1)  the  landed  proprietors,  who  let 
out  their  land  in  large  quantities  to  farmers  in  return  for 
as  considerable  a  rental  as  they  can  obtain;  (2)  the  farm- 
ers, who,  possessing  no  proprietary  interest  in  the  soil 
and  no  direct  community  of  interest  with  either  the  land- 
lords or  laborers,  carry  on  agricultural  operations  upon 
these  rented  lands  as  capitalistic,  profit-making  enter- 

22  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  276-83. 


THE  AGRICULTURAL  REVOLUTION       165 

prises;  (3)  the  agricultural  laborers  who  neither  own 
land  nor  manage  it,  but  simply  work  under  orders  for 
weekly  wages,  as  do  the  operatives  in  the  factories. ' ' 23 

AGRICULTURAL.  MACHINERY 

Although  the  history  of  English  agriculture  gives  us  a 
condensed  picture  of  the  agricultural  revolution  in  so  far 
as  it  has  involved  concentration  of  ownership,  enclosure 
of  lands,  and  the  creation  of  a  rural  wage-earning  class, 
it  is  to  America  we  must  turn  for  a  view  of  the  effects  of 
agricultural  machinery  upon  rural  life.  The  vast  fertile 
plains  of  the  central  and  western  parts  of  the  United 
States  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  application  of  ma- 
chinery to  agriculture  on  a  scale  undreamed  of  by  Eng- 
lish cultivators. 

It  was  not  until  1837  that  the  first  steel  plow  was  made. 
Then  came  the  gang-plow,  drawn  by  five  horses.  This 
invention  made  it  possible  for  a  man  to  plow  five  acres  a 
day,  and  it  seemed  that  the  acme  of  progress  had  been 
attained.  But  at  the  present  time  a  110  horse-power  ma- 
chine plows  a  strip  thirty  feet  wide  at  a  rate  of  three  or 
four  miles  an  hour,  and  does  all  the  harrowing  at  the 
same  time.  Under  favorable  conditions,  it  is  possible  to 
plant  from  ten  to  twelve-  acres-  an  hour,  thus  performing 
the  work  ordinarily  done  by  forty  or  fifty  teams  and  as 
many  men.24 

The  old-fashioned  harrow  has  undergone  a  remarkable 
evolution.  To-day  we  have  the  peg-tooth,  spring-tooth, 
disk,  spader,  and  pulverizer  harrows,  drawn  by  horses  in 
the  wake  of  the  plow,  and  capable  of  covering  a  four-  to 

23  Ogg,  op.  cit.,  pp.  63,  72 ;  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  pp.  222-23. 

24  "Farm  Machinery  as  a  Labor  Saver,"  Ency.  of  Amer.  Agri.,  vol.  I,  p,p. 
208-09. 


166  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

twenty-foot  swath.  One  of  the  latest  invention's  is  a 
harrowing  machine  with  a  100-foot  reach,  which  harrows 
thirty  acres  an  hour.25 

The  mowing-machine  was  patented  in  1831,  and  reap- 
ers were  made  practicable  by  1840.  The  first  steam- 
thresher  appeared  in  1860,  and  five  years  later  250,000 
machines  were  in  use.  In  1880,  the  United  States  had 
become  the  greatest  wheat  exporter  of  the  world,  chiefly 
because  wheat-threshing  and  twine-binding  were  done  by 
machinery.  The  cultivation  of  corn  has  been  improved 
by  the  check-rower,  the  lister,  the  weeder,  the  riding-culti- 
vator, and  other  machines.26  The  universal  problem  of 
motive  power  has  finally  been  solved  by  the  invention  of 
the  automobile  traction-motor. 

This  series  of  brilliant  inventions  has  had  the  effect  of 
tremendously  increasing  agricultural  output,  and  at  the 
same  time  diminishing  the  need  for  manual  labor.  By 
modern  machine-methods,  the  sowing  of  small  grains  is 
accomplished  in  about  one  fifth  the  time  formerly  required 
for  hand-sowing.  The  modern  harvester  displaces  seven 
men,  and  the  modern  threshing-machine  has  displaced 
from  fourteen  to  twenty-nine  farm  laborers.  It  is  esti- 
mated that  the  average  increase  in  labor  efficiency  during 
the  past  two  generations,  because  of  the  application  of 
machinery  to  the  nine  more  important  crops  of  the  Uni- 
ted States,  has  been  five  hundred  per  cent. 

The  financial  results  of  these  improvements  in  farm 
machinery  have  been  summarized  by  an  authority  as  fol- 
lows :  *  *  In  1830  it  required  over  three  hours  of  labor  to 
raise  a  bushel  of  wheat ;  in  1896  it  required  but  ten  min- 
utes— a  saving  of  over  fourteen  cents  a  bushel;  in  1850 

25  Fiske,  G.  W.,  The  Challenge  of  the  Country,  1912,  p.  78. 
2e  IUd.,  pp.  75-77. 


it  required  four  and  one-half  hours  of  labor  to  raise  a 
bushel  of  corn ;  in  1894  it  required  but  forty-one  minutes ; 
in  1860  one  ton  of  hay  represented  thirty-five  and  one- 
half  hours  of  labor;  in  1894  this  labor  was  reduced  to 
eleven  and  one-half  hours. ' ' 27 

Farm  machinery  has  thus  enormously  increased  the 
productivity  of  the  land  and  of  the  farmer.  It  has  caused 
a  rapid  increase  in  financial  returns  from  crops,  because 
the  cost  of  production  has  fallen  with  the  introduction 
and  substitution  of  machine-power  for  manual  labor. 
But  it  has  meant  more  than  the  displacement  of  farm 
laborers;  it  has  materially  reduced  the  hard,  grinding, 
back-breaking  labor  which  produced  such  meager  returns 
that  the  farm  boy  often  grew  into  the  hopeless  and  pre- 
maturely aged  man,  or  gave  up  the  struggle  and  ignomin- 
iously  retired  to  the  city.  Before  the  conquering  advance 
of  agricultural  machinery,  the  drudgery  of  farm  life  is 
gradually  retreating,  and  now  the  rural  population  may 
confidently  look  forward  to  a  time  when  the  great  ma- 
jority of  farmers  will  be  relieved  of  the  deadening  man- 
ual routine  to  a  degree  that  will  permit  released  energies 
to  be  turned  towards  self-development  and  education. 

27  Gillette,  J.  M.,  Constructive  Rural  Sociology,  1916  ed.,  p.  150. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION 

IN  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  began 
to  take  place  a  momentous  change  in  industrial  methods 
which  was  accomplished  with  comparative  rapidity  in 
England,  although  the  full  effects  of  the  revolution  came 
more  slowly  in  other  countries.  But  this  industrial  rev- 
olution was  of  far-reaching  importance  for  the  whole  civ- 
ilized world,  since  it  involved  a  complete  transformation 
of  manufactures  and  an  abrupt  break  with  much  that  had 
gone  before. 

While  many  influences  combined  to  bring  the  revolu- 
tion in  industry  to  England  before  it  came  to  other 
countries,  there  were  three  conditions  which  appear  to  be 
of  paramount  importance  in  working  the  change.  There 
was  a  relatively  greater  abundance  of  capital  and  skilled 
labor  in  England  than  in  France  or  Germany  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  We  have  already  had  occasion  to 
note  the  extension  of  woolen  manufacture  in  England,  an 
extension  accompanied  by  a  widened  control  over  domes- 
tic industry  by  the  merchant-manufacturers  who  provided 
the  raw  materials,  often  owned  the  tools  of  the  trade,  and 
paid  the  combers,  weavers,  dyers,  and  fullers  for  their 
labor.  Finally,  the  early  appearance  and  rapid  develop- 
ment of  mechanical  inventions  in  the  field  of  textile  manu- 
facture was  an  essential  in  working  the  change  from  the 
old  to  the  new.  In  varying  degrees,  then,  these  three 

no 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  171 

conditions  favored  the  transformation  from  the  domestic 
system  to  the  factory  system  of  industry.1 

The  early  and  rapid  progress  of  mechanical  invention 
in  England  seems  to  have  been  a  result  of  the  constant 
expansion  of  commerce  and  the  steadily  increasing  de- 
mand for  English-manufactured  goods  for  export,  in 
combination  with  the  practical  turn  taken  by  English 
genius  in  the  eighteenth  century.  England  had  secured 
almost  a  monopoly  of  the  markets  of  the  world  by  her 
monopoly  of  the  seas.  She  built  up  her  great  marine 
empire  by  certain  mercantile  policies  of  a  restrictive 
nature.  The  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  wit- 
nessed an  extension  of  national  economy  and  state  regu- 
lation which  superseded  town  and  local  economy  and 
aimed  to  secure  increased  national  power  and  wealth. 
The  growing  importance  of  a  regular  military  establish- 
ment as  the  basis  of  national  power,  necessitated  great 
supplies  of  gold  and  silver  with  which  to  maintain  na- 
tional influence.  In  the  absence  of  domestic  resources 
in  precious  metals,  statesmen  sought  to  amass  treasure 
by  a  ' '  favorable  balance  of  trade ' '  in  which  the  value  of 
national  exports  exceeded  the  value  of  national  imports. 
Consequently,  a  great  system  of  restrictive  legislation 
was  created  to  secure  this  favorable  balance  of  trade, 
and  we  find  laws  encouraging  the  importation  of  treasure, 
prohibiting  the  exportation  of  treasure,  generally  dis- 
couraging import  trade,  generally  encouraging  export 
trade,  favoring  industries  which  produced  for  export, 
and  restricting  the  importation  and  exportation  of  goods 
to  English-built  and  manned  vessels.  Although  Eng- 
land's persistence  in  the  enforcement  of  these  latter 
" navigation  acts"  lost  for  her  the  monopoly  of  a  chief 

1  Ogg,  op.  cit.,  pp.  83-84;  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  p.  341. 


172  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

market  (the  American  colonies),  her  policy  of  restriction 
made  her  supreme  upon  the  seas  and  in  the  other  mar- 
kets of  the  world,  so  that  demand  for  her  manufactured 
goods  became  intense  enough  to  stimulate  industrial  com- 
petition and  arouse  the  inventive  abilities  of  her  workers. 
We  shall  now  consider  the  conditions  under  which  this 
burst  of  mechanical  invention  occurred. 

THE   INADEQUACY   OF    DOMESTIC   MANUFACTURE 

On  the  eve  of  the  revolution,  the  increased  demand  for 
English-manufactured  goods  was  still  supplied  by  the 
antiquated  methods  of  domestic  industry.  Although 
foreign  trade  had  increased  enormously,  industrial  or- 
ganization remained  the  same  as  it  had  been  for  more 
than  two  centuries.  Cotton  and  woolen  cloth  were  still 
produced  in  the  scattered  cottages  of  domestic  weavers 
and  weaver-farmers  who  still  used  the  hand-card,  the 
old-fashioned  spinning-wheel,  and  the  cumbrous  hand- 
loom.  Primitive  conveyances  were  used  to  collect  the 
finished  goods  from  the  domestic  shops  in  the  hamlets 
and  towns,  and  to  deliver  them  at  the  seaports. 

The  extent  to  which  the  increased  demand  for  manu- 
factured goods  pressed  upon  these  inadequate  methods 
of  production  is  revealed  by  a  study  of  the  process  of 
cloth-making  in  its  details.  The  raw  material  of  the  tex- 
tile industry,  whether  it  be  wool  from  sheep,  the  boll  of 
the  cotton,  or  the  crushed  stems  of  flax,  is  a  tangled  mass 
of  fibers.  The  first  requisite  is  to  straighten  out  the 
threads  of  this  fiber  by  combing  or  carding.  This  pro- 
cess was  done  by  hand  under  the  domestic  system.  The 
second  step  is  spinning.  This  involves  drawing  out  the 
fibers  which  the  first  step  has  separated,  until  they  form 
a  slender  cord,  meanwhile  twisting  the  fiber-cord  suf- 


173 

ficiently  to  cause  the  separate  fibers  to  take  hold  upon  one 
another,  thus  making  a  thread  of  greater  strength.  This 
process  was  done  either  on  the  old  high  wheel,  whirled  by 
hand  and  wound  on  the  spindle,  or  on  the  old-fashioned 
spinning-wheel,  operated  by  a  treadle,  while  the  material 
was  drawn  out  by  hand,  and  twisted  and  wound  upon  the 
flyer.  The  third  step  was  weaving.  For  this  process,  it 
was  necessary  to  select  firmly  spun  threads  for  the 
' 'warp"  of  upright  threads,  and  soft,  or  loosely  spun 
threads  for  the  "woof,"  or  "weft."  This  was  wrapped 
on  a  shuttle,  and  thrown  by  hand  between  the  two  diverg- 
ing planes  of  warp-threads.  The  weaving  process  was 
followed  by  processes  of  finishing,  fulling,  shearing,  and. 
dyeing,  according  to  the  kind  of  cloth  desired.2 

In  order  to  keep  a  continuous  supply  of  materials  flow- 
ing through  the  successive  steps  in  these  processes  of 
manufacture,  it  was  necessary  to  secure  a  close  articula- 
tion of  the  various  stages.  It  was  just  here  that  the  sys- 
tem broke  down  as  a  means  of  supplying  the  growing 
commercial  demand,  for  spinners  could  not  keep  the 
weavers  supplied  with  enough  thread  to  permit  their 
meeting  increased  orders  for  cloth.  Under  the  domestic 
organization  of  industry,  spinning  was  done  by  women 
and  younger  children  in  the  home  with  the  antiquated 
spinning-wheel.  The  rate  at  which  they  could  produce 
sufficient  thread  to  keep  the  weaver  constantly  busy,  re- 
quired a  ratio  of  about  six  spinners  to  one  weaver.  Nat- 
urally this  proportion  of  labor  was  not  always  found,  and 
it  was  frequently  necessary  to  hunt  up  outside  help  to  re- 
lieve the  pressure  on  the  spinners.  This  necessitated 
delays  and  inconveniences.  The  lack  of  adjustment  be- 
tween the  supply  of  spun  material  and  the  demand  for  it 

2  Cheney,  op.  tit.,  pp.  205-06. 


174  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

on  the  part  of  weavers,  was  still  further  accentuated  by 
the  invention  of  Kay's  drop-box  and  flying-shuttle  in 
1738,  which  permitted  one  man  to  sit  still  and  throw  the 
shuttle  to  and  fro  by  alternately  pulling  two  cords,  thus 
eliminating  the  need  for  more  than  one  person  in  operat- 
ing the  loom.  No  corresponding  change  had  been  in- 
troduced which  would  accelerate  the  process  of  spin- 
ning. 

So  keenly  felt  was  this  need  for  better  spinning  pro- 
cesses, that  the  Royal  Society  offered  a  prize  for  the  in- 
vention of  a  machine  that  would  spin  several  threads  at 
the  same  time.  Although  this  reward  was  never  claimed, 
a  series  of  brilliant  mechanical  inventions  appeared 
shortly  after  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
as  soon  as  the  manufacturing  difficulties  which  we  have 
enumerated  were  overcome,  production  increased  by 
leaps  and  bounds. 

MECHANICAL   INVENTIONS    AND    MACHINE    POWEE 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of 
these  inventions,  for  they  "explain  the  world  in  which 
we  live,  with  its  busy  cities,  its  gigantic  factories  filled 
with  complicated  machinery,  its  commerce  and  vast  for- 
tunes, its  trade-unions  and  labor  parties,  its  bewildering 
variety  of  plans  for  bettering  the  lot  of  the  great  mass 
of  the  people.  The  story  of  the  substitution  for  the  dis- 
taff of  the  marvelous  spinning-machine  with  its  swiftly 
flying  fingers,  of  the  development  of  the  locomotive  and 
the  ocean  steamer  which  bind  together  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth,  of  the  perfected  press,  producing  a 
hundred  thousand  newspapers  an  hour,  of  the  marvels 
of  the  telegraph  and  the  telephone, — this  story  of  me- 
chanical invention  is  in  no  way  inferior  in  fascination  and 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  175 

importance  to  the  more  familiar  history  of  kings,  parlia- 
ments, wars,  treaties,  and  constitutions. ' ' 3 

Inventions  were  first  introduced  in  cotton  manufacture, 
and  applied  to  the 'spinning  process,  which  we  have  ob- 
served was  already  out  of  adjustment  with  the  weaving 
process.  In  1770  James  Hargreaves,  a  Lancashire 
weaver,  patented  the  " spinning- jenny,"  a  machine  which 
he  had  completed  in  1764.  The  device  was  a  simple  one. 
It  consisted  of  a  frame  with  a  number  of  spindles  side  by 
side,  each  spinning  a  separate  thread,  and  the  whole  row 
operated  by  a  band  from  one  hand-wheel.  Thus  it  be- 
came possible  to  spin,  eight,  twenty,  and  even  thirty 
threads  at  once,  instead  of  the  single  thread  in  the  old- 
fashioned  spinning-wheel.  By  the  use  of  this  machine, 
it  was  now  possible  for  spinners  to  easily  supply  the 
wants  of  weavers.  But  shortly  afterwards,  a  new  and 
more  effective  spinning  device  was  brought  to  perfection 
by  Richard  Arkwright.  This  patent  spinning-machine, 
or  "water-frame,"  imparted  an  unusual  firmness  to  the 
thread  by  passing  the  carded  material  through  successive 
pairs  of  rollers,  each  pair  revolving  more  rapidly  than 
the  last,  thus  stretching  out  the  thread  to  any  required 
fineness  and  strength.  Thread  made  by  this  machine  was 
firm  enough  to  be  used  for  warp.  Prior  to  the  introduc- 
tion of  this  process,  linen  had  to  be  used  as  warp,  because 
cotton  thread  had  never  been  made  strong  enough,  but 
now  the  practicability  of  all-cotton  cloth  was  demon- 
strated. This  machine  marks  another  significant  step  in 
the  direction  of  the  factory  system,  for  the  cumbrous- 
ness  of  the  mechanism  made  it  ill-adapted  for  cottage 
industry,  and  practically  required  the  use  of  water-power. 

s  Robinson,  J.  H.,  and  Beard,  C.,  Development  of  Modern  Europe,  vol.  II, 
p.  31. 


176  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Finally,  in  1779,  Samuel  Crompton  succeeded  in  combin- 
ing the  principles  of  the  Arkwright  and  Hargreaves  ma- 
chines, and  produced  the  "mule,"  which  spun  very  fine 
cotton  thread  and  made  the  manufacture  of  muslins  pos- 
sible. This  machine  drew  out  the  raw  material  which 
had  received  its  first  twist  (the  roving)  by  an  adaptation 
of  the  water-frame,  and  then  passed  it  on  to  be  finished 
and  twisted  into  complete  yarn  by  an  adaptation  of  the 
spinning- jenny.4  The  mechanism  has  now  been  im- 
proved to  such  an  extent  that  twelve  thousand  spindles 
may  be  worked  at  once  by  one  spinner.  By  1811,  there 
were  more  than  four  and  a  half  million  spindles  worked 
by  "mules"  in  English  factories.  The  comparatively 
sudden,  and  remarkably  powerful  stimulus  given  to  Eng- 
lish textile  industry  by  these  inventions,  was  accelerated 
by  the  invention  of  the  cotton-gin  in  1792,  a  device  which 
opened  up  for  commercial  uses  an  enormous  supply  of 
raw  cotton  which  had  hitherto  been  unsatisfactorily 
cleaned  by  hand  methods. 

It  will  be  observed  that  these  inventions  affected  the 
spinning  process  and  increased  the  output  of  spun  mate- 
rials, yet  no  corresponding  improvement  had  been  made 
in  the  weaving  process.  Consequently  the  weavers  now 
lagged  behind,  and  were  not  able  to  utilize  the  greatly  in- 
creased supply  of  thread  to  meet  the  demand  for  cloth 
goods,  for  Kay's  shuttle  had  been  the  last  advance  in  the 
weaving  process.  It  was  not  until  1785  that  a  Kentish 
clergyman,  Cartwright,  patented  his  "power-loom,"  a 
machine  which  performed  the  same  sort  of  service  for 
the  weaving  process  that  the  spinning  inventions  had  per- 
formed for  the  spinning  process.  Although  the  principle 

*  Balnea,  E.,  History  of  Cotton  Manufacture  in  Great  Britain,  London, 
1835,  p.  198. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION          177 

was  right,  the  machine  did  not  begin  to  be  much  used  until 
1813.  But  once  adopted,  this  machine  caused  the  disap- 
pearance of  domestic  hand-weavers,  as  the  other  inven- 
tions had  abolished  the  hand-spinners,  and  soon  the  fac- 
tory system  was  in  full  operation. 

At  first,  water-power  was  used  to  operate  these  heavy- 
running  mechanisms.  But  this  sort  of  power  was  not 
always  sufficient,  or  available,  and  the  discovery  of  some 
other  source  of  motive  power  was  necessary  before  the 
revolution  in  manufacturing  processes  could  be  com- 
pleted. This  need  was  finally  met  by  Watt's  steam- 
engine,  patented  in  1769,  but  not  introduced  into  factory 
manufacture  until  1785.  During  the  fifteen  year  period, 
1788-1803,  the  cotton  trade  trebled  itself,  due  to  the  in- 
troduction of  these  improved  industrial  processes.5  But 
it  should  be  noted  that  mechanical  inventions  were  first 
introduced  into  cotton  manufacture,  only  subsequently 
into  woolen  manufacture,  and  then  irregularly  into  other 
manufacturing  processes — that  is,  improvements  were 
not  introduced  into  all  fields  at  once.  Nevertheless,  the 
industrial  revolution  proceeded,  on  the  whole,  with  a 
rapidity  quite  remarkable,  in  view  of  the  comparative 
absence  of  innovations  in  industry  during  medieval  and 
ancient  times. 

THE    FACTORY    SYSTEM 

The  introduction  of  mechanical  inventions  at  first  un- 
dermined, and  then  superseded  hand  methods  of  manu- 
facture, transforming  industrial  processes  from  relatively 
simple  activities  which  produced  small  quantities  of  goods 
into  huge  and  complex  organizations  which  produced 

s  Toynbee,  op.  cit.,  p.  90 ;  see  also  Hobson,  J.  A.,  The  Evolution  of 
Capitalism,  London,  1901,  2d  ed.,  pp.  59-60, 


178 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


enormous  quantities  of  articles.  Large  numbers  of 
wage-earners  were  brought  together  in  capitalistic-owned 
establishments  in  which  costly  and  elaborate  machinery 
was  operated  by  artificial  motive  power. 

An  examination  of  the  nature  of  machinery  reveals  the 
true  causes  that  were  at  work  transforming  domestic  in- 
dustry into  the  factory  system.  The  machines  of  Ark- 
wright,  Crompton,  and  Cartwright,  and  the  improve- 
ments effected  there- 
on, were  far  too 
costly  for  the  old  cot- 
tage-weavers to  buy 
and  use.  The  pur- 
chase and  installa- 
tion of  these  ma- 
chines furnished  a 
new  and  profitable 
field  for  the  invest- 
ment of  capital,  so 
that  we  find  the  mon- 
eyed men  from  the 

FIG.  ll.-Watt's  steam  engine  towng       drawn       ^to 

partnership  with  the  early  machine-spinners  and  weav- 
ers. Besides  the  obstacle  presented  by  the  cost  of  ma- 
chinery, the  artisan's  cottage  was  too  small  and  poorly 
constructed  to  hold  machinery  which  required  space  and 
strongly  built  walls.6  This  was  an  added  reason  for 
abandoning  home-manufacture  and  for  erecting  a  special 
establishment  to  house  monstrous  machinery.  Finally, 
human  power  was  inadequate,  and  water  or  steam-power, 
which  entailed  the  organization  of  a  considerable  body  of 
laborers  as  well  as  the  purchase  of  expensive  machinery 

e  Taylor,  C.,  History  of  the  Factory  System,  p.  422. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION          179 

in  addition  to  that  employed  directly  in  manufacture, 
could  not  be  provided  in  home-manufacture.  These  then, 
are  the  reasons,  inherent  in  machine-manufacture,  which 
necessitated  a  new  industrial  organization — the  factory 
system. 

As  one  writer  says:  "What  the  great  inventions  did 
for  the  factory,  was  to  change  the  relation  of  hand-work 
to  mechanical  assistance.  The  tool  and  the  machine-tool 
are  under  government  of  the  hand.  It  is  the  worker  who 
supplies  the  force,  and  the  tool  which  obeys;  but  after 
the  great  inventions,  the  position  of  the  worker  in  the 
modern  factory  came  to  be  that  of  assisting  the  machine, 
rather  than  that  of  supplying  the  energy  to  the  hand  or 
machine-tool.  There  were  factories  before  the  inven- 
tions of  Watt,  Crompton,  and  Cort,  but  the  '  factory  sys- 
tem' of  the  nineteenth  century  implies  specially  a  subor- 
dination of  the  worker  to  the  machine,  which  justifies  us, 
if  we  look  at  the  change  over  a  long  period,  in  speaking 
of  the  effect  as  a  revolution. ' ' 7 

Mechanical  production  is  said  to  date  from  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  not  because  there  were  no  ma- 
chines prior  to  this  time,  but  because  industry  then  ex- 
perienced a  vast  acceleration  in  the  invention  of  com- 
plex machinery  applied  to  industrial  arts,  and  because 
there  occurred  for  the  first  time  the  application  of  non- 
human  motor-power  upon  an  extensive  scale.8  The  ear- 
lier machines  multiplied  the  output  of  processes  once 
done  by  hand,  while  the  later  machines  not  only  increased 
production,  but  combined  into  one  continuous  operation 
the  different  processes  of  manufacture  once  performed 

f  Macgregor,  D.  H.,  The  Evolution  of  Industry,  London  and  New  York, 
1911,  p.  40. 

s  Hobson,  op.  cit.,  pp.  45-50. 


180 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


by  different  groups  of  individuals  with  different  tools. 
In  modern  machinery  the  sewing-machine  illustrates  the 
latter,  as  the  knife-cleaning  machine  illustrates  the  for- 
mer. Hobson  defines  a  machine  "as  a  complex  tool  with 
a  fixed  relation  of  processes  performed  by  its  parts." 
Machinery  increases  the  motive  power  at  man's  disposal 


FIG.  12. — A  modern  blast  furnace 

by  applying  the  forces  of  man  and  nature  in  a  more  ef- 
fective manner  through  the  use  of  various  mechanical 
contrivances.  For  example,  the  substitution  of  mechan- 
ical for  human  power  is  made  and  also  the  substitution 
of  cheaper  for  dearer  kinds  of  power.  Finally,  the  ap- 
plication of  machinery  is  extended  to  the  utilization  of 
waste  in  natural  and  manufacturing  processes. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION          181 

The  growth  and  extension  of  machine  manufacture  and 
the  factory  system  from  industry  to  industry  was  accom- 
plished by  four  essential  steps.  First,  the  introduction 
of  automatic  machinery  as  a  supplement  to,  or  a  substi- 
tute for,  hand  labor.  This  began  in  the  manufacture  of 
cotton  and  woolen  cloth.  The  second  step  was  taken 
when  steam  was  applied  as  the  motive  force  to  drive  this 
machinery.  Manufacture  was  now  freed  from  geograph- 
ical restrictions  set  by  the  location  of  natural  resources 
in  water-power,  and  factories  could  be  built  at  strategi- 
cally situated  commercial  centers.  But  as  long  as  meth- 
ods of  transportation  remained  slow  and  cumbrous,  the 
factory  system  could  not  expand  to  meet  the  demands 
of  distant  markets.  When,  however,  in  the  nineteenth 
century  the  steamship  and  steam  railway  were  invented, 
it  was  possible  to  send  manufactured  products  cheaply 
and  rapidly  all  over  the  world,  and  the  factory  system 
soon  extended  to  a  variety  of  industries.  The  final  con- 
dition determining  the  growth  of  the  factory  system  was 
the  enlightened  encouragement  of  patents  in  the  nine- 
teenth century. 

With  these  four  conditions  assured,  mechanical  inven- 
tion was  stimulated,  and  the  factory  system  spread  from 
one  industry  to  another.  This  growth  is  marked  by  such 
important  inventions  as  the  planing-machine  in  1802,  the 
circular  wood-saw,  introduced  in  the  United  States  in 
1814,  galvanized  iron  in  1837,  vulcanized  rubber  in  1839, 
Howe's  sewing-machine  in  1846,  watch-making  by  ma- 
chinery in  1850,  the  Bessemer  process  of  making  steel  in 
1855,  paper  made  from  wood-pulp  in  1864,  the  McKay 
shoe-sewing  machine  in  1861,  the  Siemens-Martin  open- 
hearth  steel  process  in  1866,  and  the  roller-mill  and  mid- 
dlings-purifier for  making  flour  in  1875. 


182  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Beginning  in  England  in  the  later  eighteenth  century, 
the  factory  system  was  not  widely  adopted  in  the  United 
States  until  1840,  and  spread  to  Germany  only  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  has  now  been  intro- 
duced into  India,  Japan,  and  China.  The  reverberation 
of  machine-production  on  handicrafts  is  seen  wherever 
"Western  civilization  comes  in  contact  with  primitive  eco- 
nomic organization,  for  the  handicrafts  are  always  de- 
moralized by  the  enormous  volume  and  cheapness  of  ma- 
chine products. 

SOCIAL  AND  ECONOMIC  EFFECTS  OF   THE   FACTORY   SYSTEM 

The  great  silent  revolution  in  industrial  processes  and 
organization  initiated  by  the  application  of  mechanical 
contrivances  and  non-human  motor-power  to  methods  of 
production,  wrought  fundamental  and  far-reaching 
changes  in  social  organization,  changes  which  came  so 
rapidly  that  adjustment  to  the  new  conditions  is  still  im- 
perfect, and  even  to-day  there  are  many  intelligent  "per- 
sons who  fail  to  understand  their  true  significance. 

Perhaps  the  most  general  change  resulting  from  the 
factory  system  has  been  the  striking  redistribution  of 
population  effected  in  all  industrial  nations,  the  transfer 
of  population  from  rural  to  urban  conditions.  In  Eng- 
land, the  change  was  two-fold:  population  shifted  from 
southern  to  northern  sections  of  the  country,  and  from 
the  rural  regions  to  the  towns  and  cities.  The  growth 
of  population  in  the  north  was  chiefly  due  to  the  utiliza- 
tion of  the  coal-fields  for  fuel  with  which  to  turn  the 
new  machinery  in  the  factories.9  The  transfer  of  popu- 
lation was  accompanied  by  a  striking  rapidity  of  growth, 
for  the  population  of  England,  which  had  been  6,736,000 

»  Gibbins,  op.  tit.,  p.  349. 


Photo  from  Underwood  &  Underwood. 

FIG.  13. — Tapping  an  open-hearth  furnace 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  185 

in  1760,  had  risen  to  12,000,236  in  1821,10  an  increase  of 
18  per  cent,  for  the  period  1811  to  1821  alone. 

By  far  the  most  important  aspect  of  the  redistribution 
of  population,  however,  was  the  change  from  rural  to  ur- 
ban living  conditions.  The  old  domestic  manufacturer, 
half  farmer,  half  artisan,  disappeared  before  the  com- 
petition of  machine-made  goods.  Factory  methods  of 
production  so  cheapened  the  price  that  goods  would  bring 
that  it  was  no  longer  profitable  to  carry  on  industry  in 
the  home.  For  example,  spun  yarn  that  was  worth  38s. 
in  1786,  had  declined  to  19s.  in  1796,  and  to  but  7s.  2d. 
in  1806.  The  wages  of  hand-loom  weavers  also  declined, 
and  we  find  the  weavers  of  Bolton  earning  only  5s.  6d.  a 
week  in  1830,  when  they  had  received  wages  of  9s.  in 
1820,  19s.  6d.  in  1810,  and  25s.  in  1800.11  The  effect  of 
this  loss  of  remunerative  by-employment,  accompanied 
by  the  agricultural  changes  of  the  enclosure  system,  was 
quite  disastrous  for  the  rural  farmer-artisans.  Although 
the  desperate  struggle  against  the  new  conditions  was 
kept  up  for  a  whole  generation,  this  sturdy  class  gradu- 
ally died  out,  and  there  was  an  exodus  of  labor  from  the 
country  with  a  corresponding  growth  of  towns. 

One  of  the  serious  consequences  of  this  loss  of  by- 
employments  was  the  change  wrought  in  living  condi- 
tions. The  laborer  no  longer  lived  in  a  village  where  he 
could  vary  the  monotony  of  his  manufacturing  work  by 
a  little  gardening  and  work  in  the  fields.  The  hum  of  the 
spinning-wheel  grew  silent  in  the  cottage,  and  the  weaver 
no  longer  breathed  the  fresh  scents  of  hay  and  harvest  in 
the  country  air.12  The  weaver  ceased  to  use  the  product 

10  Ibid.,  and  Statistical  Journal,  vol.  xliii,  p.  462. 

«  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  p.  220. 

12  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  385-86. 


186 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


of  the  spinning  wheels  run  by  his  wife  and  children;  he 
bought  yarn  from  the  factory.  For  the  freedom  and  in- 
dependence of  the  old  life  had  been  substituted  rigid  fac- 
tory hours,  and  workers  came  and  went  at  the  sound  of  a 
bell.  Contemporary  evidence  of  the  new  order  of  things 
is  contained  in  a  description  of  the  country  around  Man- 
chester, published  in  1795  by  Dr.  Aikin,  who  says  of  the 

changes  in  domestic  life: 
1 1  The  females  are  wholly  un- 
instructed  in  knitting,  sew- 
ing, and  other  domestic  af- 


St.  Nicholas,  May,  1914. 


FIG.  14. — Interior  of  rail  mill 

fairs  requisite  to  make  them  frugal  wives  and  mothers. 
This  is  a  very  great  misfortune  to  them  and  to  the  public, 
as  is  sadly  proved  by  a  comparison  of  the  laborers  in 
husbandry,  and  those  in  manufactures  in  general.  In  the 
former,  we  meet  with  neatness,  cleanliness,  and  comfort ; 
in  the  latter,  with  filth,  rags,  and  poverty." 13 

is  Quoted  in  The  History  of  the  Factory  Movement,  i,  p.  11,  by  "Alfred" 
(Samuel  Kydd). 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  187 

The  laborer  now  lived  close  by  the  factory  where  he  .» 
and  his  family  worked  all  day  long  amid  the  smoke  and 
the  grime  of  great  fires,  and  the  ceaseless  din  of  iron 
and  steel  machinery.  With  the  introduction  of  steam- 
power,  the  old  water-power  mills  in  remote  localities  gave 
way  to  large  establishments  in  strategically  located  towns 
and  cities.  It  became  necessary  to  have  all  the  work- 
people close  together  in  one  large  building,  on  account  of 
the  fact  that  steam  could  only  be  generated  in  a  fixed 
spot,  and  the  motive  power  supplied  for  a  limited  area. 
But  there  were  certain  economies  in  administration  and 
management  which  such  concentration  afforded.  For 
example,  in  cotton  manufacture  it  was  convenient  to  carry 
on  the  work  of  carders,  spinners,  and  weavers  in  close 
proximity.  In  addition,  there  were  advantages  of  man- 
agement which  accrued  from  nearness  to  markets  for  raw 
material,  finished  product,  and  labor  supply,  that  made 
concentrated  work  economical.  Thus  the  typical  unit  of 
production  ceased  to  be  the  single  family,  or  small  group 
working  with  simple  tools  upon  small  quantities  of  ma- 
terial, but  came  to  be  a  compact  unit  composed  of  hun- 
dreds, and  sometimes  thousands,  of  workmen  closely  as- 
sociated in  a  cooperative  activity,  operating  intricate 
machinery  in  large  establishments,  and  turning  out  enor- 
mous quantities  of  goods. 

The  first  factories  were  hastily  constructed  and  with- 
out adequate  provision  for  lighting,  ventilation,  or  sani- 
tation. There  was  a  great  prevalence  of  fevers  among 
employees  in  cotton  mills  because  of  the  utterly  unsani- 
tary conditions  under  which  they  worked.  Although  the 
cottages  in  which  domestic  industry  had  been  carried  on 
were  undoubtedly  small,  hot,  dusty,  damp,  and  unhealthy, 
relief  was  to  be  had  by  gardening  and  farming ;  but  the 


188  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

prevalence  of  these  same  conditions  in  the  mills  was  a 
much  more  serious  matter,  for  men,  women,  and  children 
worked  regularly  many  more  hours  a  day  in  the  factories, 
— twelve,  thirteen,  and  even  fourteen.  There  were  no 
arrangements  for  the  preservation  of  health,  comfort,  or 
decency  among  the  working  classes,  who  were  composed 
of  men  and  women,  adults  and  children.  As  for  the  chil- 
dren, ' '  they  slept  by  turns  and  relays  in  filthy  beds  which 
were  never  cool;  for  one  set  of  children  were  sent  to 
sleep  in  them  as  soon  as  the  others  had  gone  off  to  their 
daily  or  nightly  toil.  There  was  often  no  discrimination 
of  sexes ;  and  disease,  misery,  and  vice  grew  as  in  a  hot- 
bed of  contagion."  14 

Relief  from  the  intolerable  conditions  under  which  fac- 
tory labor  was  carried  on  was  not  to  be  had  upon  the 
home-coming  of  a  tired  worker ;  for  the  rapid  increase  in 
urban  population  had  brought  about  congested  living 
conditions.  The  "home"  of  the  mill-hand  was  some- 
times a  damp  cellar,  or  more  frequently  a  small  and  dark 
tenement.  Under  the  pressure  of  population  crowded 
into  such  narrow  limits,  the  old  arrangements  for  pro- 
viding water,  drainage,  and  ventilation,  broke  down  com- 
pletely. Rents  rose,  and  the  factory  towns  became  filthy 
and  demoralizing  centers  of  life. 

When  we  examine  the  inherent  characteristics  of  ma- 
chine production  and  the  factory  system,  we  discover  that 
the  change  from  hand-production  to  machine-production 
has  had  certain  subtle  effects  upon  the  organization  of 
labor.  The  decay  of  the  domestic  system  and  the  sub- 
stitution of  machinery  for  hand-labor  was  not,  however, 
always  accomplished  in  a  quiet  and  peaceable  manner. 
The  introduction  of  machinery  was  followed  by  disad- 

i*  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  389-90. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  191 

vantages  to  the  artisan  of  such  an  obvious  and  immedi- 
ate nature,  that  riots  against  the  installation  of  machin- 
ery were  frequent  in  the  early  years  of  the  industrial 
revolution.  The  gains  which  machine-production  prom- 
ised, were  cheap  goods  at  some  future  time,  and  this  was 
not  a  satisfactory  compensation  to  the  laborer  who  lost 
employment  through  the  introduction  of  labor-saving  ma- 
chinery. Hence  there  came  fierce  revolts  against  the  new 
devices  of  manufacture.  Much  machinery  was  destroyed 
during  riots  in  1812,  1816,  and  1826.  Wherever  the  sub- 
stitution of  machinery  for  hand-labor  occurred  rapidly, 
there  was  great  distress,  but  in  those  fields  in  which  the 
change  came  gradually,  there  was  much  less  misery. 
The  substitution  of  new  for  old  methods  progressed  ir- 
regularly, and  it  was  not  until  1840  that  wool-combing  by 
machinery  really  threatened  the  hand-worker,  and  began 
to  drive  him  from  the  field. 

These  fierce  outbursts  against  the  new  order  of  things  t 
should  not  blind  us  to  the  great  significance  of  the  thor- 
ough-going change  that  was  transforming  the  very  basis 
of  manufacturing  industry.  Highly  specialized  routine 
labor,  adjusted  to  machinery,  was  largely  replacing  the 
all-round  skill  that  the  apprenticeship  system  of  hand- 
work had  produced.  Under  the  handicraft  system  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  as  organized  in  the  craft  gilds,  the  work- 
man followed  the  raw  material  through  the  various  stages 
of  manufacture  until  it  took  on  the  form  of  a  finished 
product.  He  knew  all  the  steps  in  the  process,  and  took 
pleasure  and  pride  in  his  workmanship.  Under  the  fac- 
tory system,  the  average  workman  performs  only  one 
minor  act  in  the  process  of  production,  perhaps  throwing 
a  lever  back  and  forth,  or  his  particular  task  may  be  to 
guide  a  machine  which  accomplishes  some  intermediate 


192  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

step  in  the  series,  and  so  he  may  never  see  the  raw  mate- 
rial, or  even  know  for  what  the  finished  product  is  to  be 
used.  A  few  illustrations  will  serve  to  make  the  matter 
clearer. 

The  manufacture  of  such  a  simple  product  as  pins  was 
in  1776  divided  into  eighteen  distinct  operations.  It  re- 
quired five  distinct  operations,  each  performed  by  an  in- 
dependent workman,  to  draw,  straighten,  cut,  point,  and 
put  on  the  head;  two  or  three  separate  operations  to 
make  the  head ;  and  putting  on  of  the  head,  the  whitening 
of  the  pins,  and  the  sticking  of  the  finished  pins  in  the 
paper  package,  were  peculiar  businesses  in  themselves.15 
The  manufacture  of  a  shoe  in  some  New  England  fac- 
tories of  to-day  requires  173  different  operations,  each 
conducted  by  a  class  of  laborers  with  a  special  name. 
In  the  making  of  a  modern  high-grade  watch,  at  least 
1088  different  sets  of  workmen,  aside  from  the  operations 
of  furnishing  the  power,  each  using  a  different  kind  of 
machine,  are  employed.  In  the  typical  cotton-mill  of  to- 
day, the  division  of  labor  embraces  more  than  98  differ- 
ent occupations.  One  man  can  operate  from  six  to  twelve 
machines  in  the  manufacture  of  screws,  and  the  ratio  of 
machine  to  hand  production  is  4491  to  1.  There  are  no 
less  than  39  distinct  processes  in  the  manufacture  of 
ready-made  coats  as  now  carried  on  in  New  York.16 

But  perhaps  the  most  modern,  as  well  as  in  some  re- 
spects the  most  typical  case  of  the  division  of  labor  which 
accompanies  the  factory  system,  is  seen  in  the  great  auto- 
mobile  factory   of   Henry  Ford   at   Detroit.    John   A. 
Fitch,  writing  in  The  Survey,17  thus  describes  the  re- 
is  Smith,  Adam,  The  Wealth  of  Nations,  in  Macmillan's  Economic  Clas- 
sics, p.  6,  of  bk.  I,  ch.  i. 
ie  Seligman,  op.  cit.,  p.  293. 
IT  February  7,  1914,  pp.  545-50. 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &  Underwood. 

FIG.  16. — Assembling  department  of  Ford  Motor  Company;  putting  on 
wheels,  gas  tank  and  muffler 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  195 

markable  organization  of  labor  and  machinery  which  per- 
mitted the  production  of  605  complete  automobiles  in  four 
hours  on  January  24, 1914 : 

"They  don't  just  produce  automobiles  at  Ford's,"  a  man  in 
another  Detroit  factory  remarked,  "they  spew  them  out." 
Fifteen  thousand  men  work  in  gangs  on  the  track  system.  Each 
gang,  and  each  man  in  each  gang,  has  just  one  small  thing  to 
do — and  to  do  it  over  and  over  again.  It  's  push  and  hustle 
and  go.  The  man  behind  may  shove  his  work  along  to  you  at 
any  moment — you  must  not  hold  him  back;  at  any  moment  the 
man  in  front  may  be  ready  for  another  piece  to  work  on — he 
must  not  be  kept  waiting. 

Up  one  line  and  down  another  goes  a  continual  stream  of 
motor  parts  in  process  of  assembling.  One  man  fits  the  parts 
together  so  that  the  bolt  holes  come  right.  The  next  man  slips 
the  bolts  in  place.  The  next  has  a  pan  of  nuts  before  him  and 
all  day  long  he  scoops  them  up  and  with  his  fingers  starts  them 
on  the  thread  of  the  bolts.  The  next  man  has  a  wrench  and  he 
gives  them  the  final  twist  that  makes,  them  tight. 

Over  in  another  part  of  the  great  factory  there  are  four  or 
five  parallel  tracks.  On  every  track  are  a  dozen  automobiles  in 
all  stages  of  being  put  together.  Each  is  slowly  moving  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  and — like  a  snowball  rolling  down-hill — 
gathering  itself  together  as  it  travels,  until  with  a  snort  and  a 
whir  it  dashes  out  at  the  door  on  its  own  power. 

The  last  of  these  tracks  is  formed  by  moving  belts.  With- 
out a  stop  from  start  to  finish  the  machine  moves  steadily  for- 
ward on  the  belt,  and,  either  sitting  on  different  parts  of  it  or 
walking  alongside  for  a  moment,  each  man  adds  the  bolt,  or  gives 
a  turn  to  the  screw  for  which  he  is  responsible.  One  fellow 
has  to  lie  on  his  back  underneath  and  hammer  away  at  some- 
thing. He  has  a  little  platform  on  wheels  to  support  him  and 
with  a  bent  rod  he  "hitches  on"  the  front  axle.  "Bing," 
"Bang,"  instantly  he  lets  go  and  drops  back  to  hitch  on  to  the 
next  machine. 

Piled  up  along  the  way  are  the  different  parts,  each  to  be 
added  as  the  growing  machine  passes  by.  Each  man  does  his 


196  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

part,  and  gives  it  a  shove.  First,  to  a  mere  skeleton  of  a  frame, 
two  men  attach  the  rear  axle.  They  fasten  it  in  haste  and  give 
it  a  push — some  one  else  will  tighten  the  bolts.  Three  men  seize 
it  and  in  a  moment  the  front  axle  is  in  place  and  the  four  wheels 
put  on.  It  's  easier  to  move  now ;  a  touch  sends  it  on  to  another 
gang  of  three,  who  put  on  the  truss-rods  and  tighten  things  up 
all  around. 

Another  shove,  and  it  goes  to  where  a  motor  is  dangling  from 
chains,  directly  over  the  track.  A  word  from  some  one  and 
down  comes  the  motor  to  its  place,  and  bolts  go  in  and  on  goes 
the  machine.  Then  comes  the  steering  gear,  and  the  control 
levers — on  again,  and  from  overhead  a  hose  is  pulled  down  and 
a  gallon  of  gasoline  squirted  into  the  tank.  One  more  shove  and 
the  rear  wheels  drop  into  a  slot  where  there  are  rapidly  revolv- 
ing pullies.  The  wheels  begin  to  whirl — the  motor  starts — a  man 
seats  himself  on  the  tank,  grasps  the  wheel  and  cuts  loose,  and 
with  a  snort  and  a  cough,  out  the  door  they  go.  What  was,  ten 
minutes  ago,  a  pile  of  rods  and  gears  and  lifeless  steels  is  now 
thrilling  with  power.  A  car  came  through  that  door  every 
twenty-four  seconds  Saturday  morning,  January  24.  ... 

This  minute  specialization  of  process  permits  the  em- 
ployment of  unskilled  labor,  for  the  machine  accomplishes 
by  automatic  precision  the  same  result  that  human  pa- 
tience and  skill  had  once  attained.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, the  old  interest  in  producing  good  work  dis- 
appears, for  the  laborer  loses  that  intimate  association 
with  all  the  different  stages  in  the  process  which  encour- 
ages a  feeling  of  responsibility  for  the  quality  of  the 
product.  Says  Ferrero:  "Machines  are  the  barbarians 
of  modern  times,  which  have  destroyed  the  fairest  works 
of  ancient  civilizations. ' ' 18 

Another  aspect  of  the  extreme  division  of  labor  under 
the  factory  system  with  its  specialization  in  productive 
activities,  is  the  demoralizing  effect  of  monotonous 

.     is  Ancient  Rome  and  Modern  America,  p.  6. 


Photo  from  Underwood  &  Underwood. 

FIG   17. — Assembling  department  of  Ford  Motor  Company:  putting  on  dash 

and  fenders 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  199 

routine  labor.  Shoving  bolts  into  holes,  and  doing  noth- 
ing else  all  day  long  for  a  ten-hour  day,  is  productive  of 
dulled  senses  and  set  habits  of  mind  and  body.  Spe- 
cialized work  in  which  activity  is  of  a  trivial  sort,  tends 
to  destroy  individual  plasticity,  and  the  workman  loses 
his  power  of  quick  adaptation  to  new  conditions.  Under 
these  circumstances,  it  is  not  easy  for  a  laborer  to  make 
the  change  from  one  employment  to  another  when  he  is 
thrown  out  of  work  by  industrial  depressions  which  re- 
sult from  over-production,  or  to  adjust  himself  to  another 
job  when  his  old  one  has  been  cast  aside  and  made  use- 
less by  the  introduction  of  new  labor-saving  machinery. 
It  is  the  old  experience  of  biological  evolution  reappear- 
ing in  industrial  activities,  the  extinction  of  the  highly 
specialized.  It  means  that  the  middle-aged  workman 
who  has  spent  his  best  years  in  some  highly  specialized 
industrial  activity,  is  suddenly  thrown  upon  the  scrap- 
heap  by  the  introduction  of  new  machinery,  at  a  time 
when  his  social  and  family  obligations  are  heaviest.  For 
the  young  and  alert  of  limb,  the  minute  standardization 
of  operations  permits  a  comparatively  quick  acquisition 
of  skill,  with  a  consequent  possibility  of  rapid  movement 
for  workers  between  industries.  But  not  so  with  the 
mature  worker.  The  years  of  monotonous  and  uninter- 
esting employment  have  deadened  his  initiative  and  abil- 
ity to  turn  about  and  acquire  new  coordinations ;  and  un- 
fortunately this  type  of  laborer  represents  the  majority. 
When  the  domestic  system  became  the  characteristic 
type  of  industrial  organization,  the  workman  lost  control 
over  two  parts  in  the  process  of  production,  the  purchase, 
or  procuring  of  the  raw  material,  and  the  selling,  or  dis- 
posal of  the  finished  article.  To  this  extent,  he  was  less 
independent  than  under  the  handicraft  system,  although 


200  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

he  was  still  able  to  control  the  hours  and  conditions  of 
labor,  because  he  still  worked  in  his  cottage.  But  with 
the  coming  of  the  factory  system,  ownership  of  tools  and 
place  of  work  passed  from  the  control  of  the  laborer.  He 
became  a  hired  hand,  a  wage-earner,  working  with  tools 
(machinery)  provided  by  the  capitalist  in  a  specially 
constructed  establishment  (factory),  upon  material  which 
he  did  not  own  and  which  his  labor  helped  to  turn  into 
some  finished  article  which  he  might  never  see.  Thus  the 
old  personal  relationship  of  the  workman  to  the  processes 
of  production  disappeared,  and  he  was  unable  to  regulate 
his  hours,  or  the  conditions  under  which  his  labor  was 
carried  on.  It  was  a  serious  thing,  this  loss  of  personal 
freedom,  this  growing  economic  dependence  of  a  large 
mass  of  laborers  upon  a  small  class  of  capitalists.  It 
created  a  social  situation  which  somewhat  radical  think- 
ers have  with  considerable  justice  called,  "wage  slav- 
ery." But  this  consideration  brings  us  to  the  study  of 
another  important  effect  of  the  factory  system. 

A  thoroughgoing  differentiation  of  the  industrial 
classes  of  capital  labor  was  another  consequence  which 
followed  the  introduction  of  the  factory  system.  In  the 
days  of  the  handicraft  system  in  antiquity,  and  under  the 
craft-gilds  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  difference  between 
employer  and  employee  in  the  industrial  field  was  not 
great.  The  master  worked  with  his  apprentices  and 
journeymen,  participating  with  them  in  the  processes  of 
production,  sharing  their  privations  and  their  comforts, 
although  he  possessed  authority  over  them  and  paid 
them  wages.  Much  the  same  situation  existed  under  the 
domestic  system.  But  with  the  factory  system,  came 
hard  and  fast  differences  between  employer  and  em- 
ployee. The  ownership  of  materials,  tools,  machinery, 


•TATE  TEACHERS  COI.Lrr,t 
SANTA  BARBARA.  CA'... 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION" 


201 


and  factory  was  in  the  hands  of  those  outside  the  class  of 
manual  laborers — the  employer  class — while  the  work- 
men sold  naught  but  their  labor.  It  was  but  natural  that, 
in  the  absence  of  the  old  intimacy  of  master  and  man  in 
the  processes  of  manufacture,  and  in  the  presence  of 


STAGE 


OF 


Main  Steps  and  Factors  in  Industrial  Production 


FVovision  of 

Raw 
Materials 


Provision  of 

Place 
of  Work 


Ownership  of 

Tools  of 
Production 


Sale  of 
Finished 
Product 


MIDDLE  AGES 

to   I5"»CENT. 


i  J  i  •  i 


DOMESTIC 

15*.  16*.  17* 
CENTURIES 


Merchant- 
Middleman 


FACTORY 


FYoducer  of 
Raw  Materials 
Merchant - 
Middleman 


Capitalistic 

Factory 

Production 


Capitalistic 

Machine 

Production 


Wholesaler 
Middleman 
Retailer 


This  step  in  the  process  of  production  controlled  by  Labor. 


FIG.  18. — Diagram  illustrating  how  labor  has  lost  control  of  one  step  after 
another  in  the  evolution  of  modern  industry.  (The  dates  are  only  ap- 
proximations and  merely  serve  to  indicate  when  the  particular  type  of 
industry  was  most  prevalent.) 

marked  differentiation  of  function,  the  interests  of  the 
two  should  grow  apart.  Under  this  type  of  industrial 
organization,  it  was  comparatively  easy  for  the  capitalist 
to  appropriate  nearly  all  the  wealth  produced  by  the  labor 
of  the  mill-hands,  leaving  the  employees  a  scant  living 
share.  "Hence,"  says  Gibbins,  "it  may  be  said  that 


202  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

capital  in  this  case  was  the  result  of  abstinence,  though 
the  abstinence  was  on  the  part  of  the  workman  and  not  of 
his  employer.  .  .  . " 19 

It  is  profitable  to  dwell  at  length  upon  the  differentia- 
tion of  classes  and  the  growth  of  hostile  class-interests 
which  came  as  a  consequence  of  the  new  organization  of 
industry,  for  an  understanding  of  these  facts  helps  to  ex- 
plain many  of  the  complex  problems  of  the  present  day. 
In  place  of  the  old  personal  tie  between  employer  and  em- 
ployee, we  have  a  simple  wage-paying-labor-giving  rela- 
tion, sometimes  described  as  a  "cash-nexus."  To  the 
large  employer  of  labor,  the  average  employee  becomes  a 
mere  number.  The  human  relation  has  disappeared. 
Large-scale  production,  the  organization  of  great  masses 
of  labor  and  intricate  machinery  for  enormous  output, 
has  apparently  increased  and  enhanced  the  saparation  of 
the  productive  classes,  and  made  inevitable  a  feeling  of 
irresponsibility  on  the  part  of  those  in  control  for  the 
lives  of  the  manual  workers.  Compare  the  system  of 
production  as  it  existed  when  the  master  craftsman 
worked  in  the  same  room  and  handled  the  same  tools  as 
his  apprentice  or  employee,  with  the  usual  organization 
of  the  modern  corporation.  In  the  former,  the  relations 
of  employer  and  employee  were  personal  and  direct; 
there  were  no  intermediate  authorities.  In  the  latter,  be- 
tween the  manual  laborer  and  the  ultimate  owner — the 
stockholder — there  is  a  whole  hierarchy  of  officials  and 
authorities,  represented  by  the  factory  superintendent, 
the  general  manager,  the  president  of  the  corporation, 
the  executive  committee  of  the  board  of  directors,  and 
the  board  of  directors  itself.  How  easy  it  is  for  respon- 
sibility for  industrial  accident,  inadequate  wages,  or  un- 

i»  Op.  cit.,  p.  381. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  EEVOLUTION 


203 


healthful  working  conditions,  to  be  lost  somewhere  be- 
tween the  beginning  and  the  end  of  this  series!  Thus 
there  are  structural  facts  inherent  in  the  factory  organi- 
zation of  industry  which  make  for  irresponsibility  and 
hostile  class-interests. 

Unfortunately,  the  evil  effects  of  these  structural  traits 
that  promoted  class  misunderstandings  and  antagonisms, 


MODERN  CORPORATE 
ORGANIZATION  OF  INDUSTRY 


The   Stockholders 
The  Ultimate  Employer 


1 


|  Board  of  Directors   | 
I 


Executive  Committee  of  the 
Board  of  Directors 


I  President  of  the  Corporation  \ 

i 

General    Manager 

I 

[Factory  Superintendent] 


The  Master  Craftsman 
or  Employer 


|  Labor  j 


I 


FIG.  19. — A  comparison  of  complex  modern  corporate  organization  of 
industry  with  the  simple  handicraft  organization 

have  been  increased  by  a  mistaken  economic  philosophy. 
Policies  of  commercial  and  industrial  restriction  which 
had  their  inception  in  the  era  of  national  aggrandizement 
at  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages,  tended  to  stifle  legitimate 
economic  expansion  in  the  new-world  economy,  and  the 
reaction  against  these  fetters  was  first  voiced  by  seven- 
teenth-century English  economic  writers  and  by  the  con- 
temporary French  school  of  the  "  Physiocrats. "  20  But 

aoHaney,  L.  H.,  History  of  Economic  Thought,  1911,  pp.  133-90. 


204  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

like  most  social  revulsions,  this  change  from  restrictive 
policies  went  too  far,  and  there  was  an  unwise  reduction 
in  governmental  control  over  economic  activities.  The 
prevailing  desire  for  personal  liberty  and  freedom  from 
outside  restraint  led  people  to  think  of  government  regu- 
lation as  an  interference  with  their  natural  liberty.  It 
was  felt  that  the  evils  of  the  existing  social  order  were 
due,  in  large  measure,  to  the  artificial  restraints  of  man- 
made  laws.  If  only  these  legal  and  customary  obstacles 
could  be  removed,  man  would  speedily  get  back  to  a 
" state  of  nature,"  and  freed  from  unwise  and  selfish 
restrictions,  could  work  out  his  destiny  in  accordance 
with  beneficent,  natural  law.  The  economic  writers 
Adam  Smith,  Malthus,  Ricardo,  and  others,  attempted  to 
explain  why  it  was  that  all  interference  with  free  compe- 
tition was  interference  with  natural  law,  and  hence  in- 
effectual and  foredoomed  to  failure. 

This  social  and  economic  philosophy  was  therefore 
quite  opposed  to  the  extension,  or  even  the  continuance 
of  control  by  the  government  over  matters  affecting 
labor,  wages,  hours  of  work,  industrial  conditions  and 
organization,  commerce,  agriculture,  or  any  other  kinds 
of  economic  activity.  The  idea  of  the  survival  of  the 
biologically  fit  through  the  agency  of  a  rigorous  struggle 
for  existence,  appears  to  have  had  its  counterpart  in  this 
economic  doctrine  that  free  and  unhampered  competition 
was  the  sole  guaranty  of  social  and  industrial  progress. 
An  enlightened  self-interest  was  relied  upon  to  ensure 
justice  to  all,  and  to  perfect  the  structure  of  social  and 
economic  relations  in  the  interest  of  general  human  wel- 
fare. Consequently,  we  find  that  there  was  a  gradual 
cessation  of  government  regulation.  The  state  should 
let  things  alone;  laissez-faire  became  the  prevailing 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION  205 

theory  of  the  functions  of  government.  The  growth  of 
this  let-alone  policy  is  seen  in  the  parliamentary  acts  of 
1803  and  1809,  which  modified  the  old  Statute  of  Appren- 
tices and  permitted  greater  individual  freedom,  in  the 
subsequent  amendment  of  1813,  which  did  away  with  the 
wage  clauses,  and  in  the  eventual  repeal  of  the  act  in 
1814,  as  against  the  natural  rights  of  the  people.  The 
old  restrictions  which  had  forbidden  laborers  to  combine 
to  settle  wages  and  hours,  were  repealed  in  1824.  The 
Navigation  Acts  were  abolished  in  1849.  In  1845,  duties 
on  over  four  hundred  articles  were  removed,  and  four 
years  later,  protective  duties  on  corn  were  abandoned. 
Thus  England  reversed  her  traditional  policy  of  regula- 
tion, and  became  the  greatest  national  exponent  of  "free 
trade"  in  modern  times. 

Combined  with  the  inherent  structural  tendencies  of 
the  modern  capitalistic  system,  this  philosophy  of  laissez- 
faire,  or  letting  things  alone,  inevitably  worked  to  the 
disadvantage  of  the  labor  class.  The  new  ideal  of  free 
competition  justified  the  most  thoughtless  and  inhuman 
treatment  of  employees  as  much  as  it  opposed  govern- 
ment interference  to  protect  them  from  exploitation. 
Reduced  to  a  state  of  dependence,  and  prevented  from 
exercising  control  over  working  conditions  to  protect 
themselves,  the  wage-earners,  as  a  class,  fell  an  easy 
victim  to  capitalists  unscrupulous  or  thoughtless  enough 
to  rigidly  apply  the  principle  of  laissez-faire.  On  the 
assumption  that  laborers  were  guided  by  self-interest, 
enjoyed  personal  freedom  in  employing  themselves,  and 
would  avoid  unfavorable  terms  or  working  conditions,  the 
employer  was  freed  of  responsibility  for  their  welfare. 
Let  us  see  how  this  worked  out. 

The  weaker  classes  of  the  wage-earning  population 


206  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

were  ruthlessly  exploited.  Women  and  children  were  in 
great  demand  as  mill-hands.  They  could  readily  do  the 
work  formerly  performed  by  strong  men,  for  strength 
was  not  required  to  operate  the  powerful  machines 
driven  by  water-  or  steam-power ;  they  were  more  easily 
managed  than  men,  being  less  insistent  upon  their  rights 
and  less  pugnacious;  finally,  they  were  cheap,  for  they 
could  be  obtained  at  lower  wages  than  would  satisfy  a 
strong  adult  man.  Of  31,632  employees  in  worsted  mills 
in  the  year  1839, 18,416  were  under  eighteen  years  of  age, 
and  10,192  of  the  remaining  adults  were  women.  This 
leaves  only  3024  adult  men  among  a  group  of  more  than 
30,000  mill-hands.  At  a  flax-spinning  mill  near  Leeds  in 
1832,  there  were  829  employees  below  eighteen  out  of  a 
total  force  of  1200.21 

One  serious  aspect  of  the  employment  of  women  and 
children  in  such  large  numbers  was  that  the  normal  rela- 
tions of  the  home  were  reversed.  The  man  often  ceased 
to  be  the  breadwinner,  and  the  women  and  children  were 
driven  from  the  home  to  the  factory.  Parents  came  to 
depend  upon  the  earnings  of  their  children  and  remained 
shiftlessly  at  home,  the  children  going  forth  to  work  be- 
fore daylight  and  returning  home  after  dark.  This  hor- 
rible state  of  affairs  brought  its  hideous  crop  of  sickly, 
stunted,  and  degenerate  persons  among  those  individuals 
who  survived  childhood  and  grew  to  adult  years. 

Perhaps  the  most  vicious  aspect  of  the  employment  of 
children  is  seen  in  the  apprentice  slavery  of  workhouse 
children.  The  insatiable  demand  for  labor  led  manufac- 
turers to  secure  pauper  and  orphan  children  from  over- 
seers of  the  poor  in  the  different  parishes  of  England, 
under  the  flimsy  disguise  of  pretending  to  apprentice 

21  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  p.  237. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  EEVOLUTION  207 

them  to  the  new  employments  just  introduced.  Days 
were  regularly  set  for  inspection  of  the  children,  and  a 
systematic  traffic  was  developed  according  to  which  the 
children  were  conveyed  by  canal-boats  or  wagons  to  the 
factory;  or  they  were  kept  in  some  dark  cellar  of  the 
factory  district  until  they  could  be  sold  to  a  manufacturer 
in  need  of  labor.  This  last  transaction  was  carried  on 
exactly  as  the  slave-dealers  of  the  American  markets  sold 
their  blacks,  the  children  being  examined  for  height, 
strength,  and  bodily  capacity.  Although  nominally  ap- 
prentices to  the  master,  the  unfortunate  children  were 
really  slaves  "who  got  no  wages,  and  whom  it  was  not 
worth  while  even  to  feed  or  clothe  properly,  because  they 
were  so  cheap,  and  their  places  could  be  so  easily  sup- 
plied. .  .  .  The  hours  of  their  labor  were  limited  only  by 
exhaustion,  after  many  modes  of  torture  had  been  un- 
availingly  applied  to  force  continued  work.  Illness  was 
no  excuse ;  no  child  was  accounted  ill  till  it  was  positively 
impossible  to  force  him  or  her  to  continue  to  labor,  in 
spite  of  all  the  cruelty  which  the  ingenuity  of  a  tor- 
mentor could  suggest. ' '  22  The  horror  and  pathos  of  it 
all  is  well  expressed  by  Alfred: 23  "In  stench,  in  heated 
rooms,  amid  the  constant  whirling  of  a  thousand  wheels, 
little  fingers  and  little  feet  were  kept  in  ceaseless  action, 
forced  into  unnatural  activity  by  blows  from  the  heavy 
hands  and  feet  of  the  merciless  overlooker,  and  the  inflic- 
tion of  bodily  pain  by  instruments  of  punishment,  in- 
vented by  the  sharpened  ingenuity  of  insatiable  selfish- 
ness. "  Many  of  the  children  committed  suicide,  and 
many  children  who  fell  under  the  influence  of  the  ghastly 
system  were  buried  secretly  at  night  in  some  desolate 

22Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  388-90;  Taylor,  op.  cit.,  p.  192. 
23  History  of  the  Factory  Movement,  i,  21,  22. 


208  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

spot,  lest  people  should  remark  at  the  number  of 
graves. 

It  should  always  be  remembered  that  this  unexampled 
suffering  of  the  weaker  industrial  classes  occurred  in  en- 
lightened England  at  the  very  time  when  British  philan- 
thropists were  agitating  for  the  relief  of  negro  slaves  in 
other  countries.  It  is  well  also  to  recall  in  this  connec- 
tion the  treatment  accorded  industrial  slaves  in  Greek 
and  Roman  times,  for  one  has  a  right  to  expect  more 
humanity  in  the  relations  of  employers  and  employees, 
of  master  and  man,  as  industrial  evolution  proceeds. 

The  children  were  sent  from  London  and  other  large 
cities  to  work  in  the  factories  of  the  north.  "  Apprentice 
houses"  wer"e  constructed  near  the  factories,  and  super- 
intendents and  matrons  provided.  During  rush  periods, 
the  children  often  worked  in  twelve-hour  shifts.  Only 
the  coarsest  and  cheapest  food  was  provided,  and  they 
were  frequently  forced  to  eat  this  while  operating  the 
machinery.  Sunday,  far  from  being  a  day  of  rest,  was 
spent  in  cleaning  machinery.  The  children  worked  at 
mills  in  remote  places  where  the  horrible  conditions  of 
their  labor  would  remain  unknown  to  the  general  public, 
and  directed  by  petty  masters,  or  small  foremen,  so  that 
the  absentee  mill-owners  were  frequently  ignorant  of  the 
real  state  of  affairs. 

FACTORY   LEGISLATION 

One  of  the  first  efforts  to  remedy  this  evil  was  the  pas- 
sage of  the  ' '  The  Health  and  Morals  Act  to  regulate  the 
Labor  of  Bound  Children  in  Cotton  Factories,"  under 
the  influence  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  a  large  employer  of 
child-labor.  This  act  of  1802  set  an  age-limit  of  nine 
years,  below  which  children  might  not  be  bound  out  for 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION          209 

factory  labor;  night  work  was  forbidden,  and  working 
hours  were  restricted  to  twelve  a  day.  Direct  health 
provisions  required  whitewashed  walls  and  adequate  ven- 
tilation. In  addition,  the  welfare  of  the  children  was 
still  further  guarded  by  insisting  upon  sufficient  clothing 
and  some  religious  opportunities,  as  well  as  instruction 
in  English.  But  perhaps  more  effective  than  this  act  in 
ameliorating  the  abuses  of  this  apprentice  system,  was  an 
industrial  change  that  occurred  about  the  same  time. 
The  application  of  steam-power  to  textile  manufacture 
caused  a  transfer  to  the  towns  of  many  of  the  factories 
that  had  previously  been  located  in  rural  districts  where 
water-power  could  be  obtained.  In  these  towns  the  chil- 
dren of  families  there  resident  could  be  employed,  and 
the  practice  of  using  pauper  children  was  largely  discon- 
tinued. 

But  the  substitution  of  these  town  children  for  the 
workhouse  apprentices  was  not  a  satisfactory  solution  of 
the  problem,  for  the  evil  of  child  labor  still  continued. 
The  same  early  working  age,  the  same  long  hours  and 
night  work,  and  the  same  unsanitary  factory  conditions, 
persisted.  From  1800  to  as*  late  as  1840,  the  results  of 
the  evil  may  be  seen  in  the  early  deaths  of  many  working 
children,  and  in  the  stunted  and  distorted  forms  of  those 
who  survived.  Meanwhile  the  act  of  1802  had  not  been 
enforced,  and  the  old  conditions  had  largely  returned. 

Gradually,  with  painful  slowness,  the  attention  of  the 
public  became  fixed  upon  the  sad  lives  of  these  abused 
and  much  neglected  little  waifs,  and  reform  legislation 
was  enacted.  It  was  not  until  1830  that  a  young  aboli- 
tionist, Richard  Oastler,  was  aroused  to  the  fact  that 
actual  slavery  existed  in  England.  Although  he  at  once 
started  agitation  against  this  "  wage-slavery/  'he  met 


210  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

with  many  disappointments,  for  even  indisputable  facts 
failed  to  convince  the  respectable  and  self-satisfied 
classes  of  the  existence  of  the  terrible  system  in  their 
midst. 

As  early  as  1816,  a  select  committee  of  the  House  of 
Commons  had  been  appointed  to  collect  evidence  upon 
the  conditions  of  child-labor.  The  committee  secured 
evidence  of  terrible  abuse  and  overwork,  yet  the  greed 
of  capitalists  was  so  great  that  it  was  not  until  1819  that 
the  second  "Factory  Act"  was  passed,  and  their  objec- 
tions overcome.  Between  the  ages  of  nine  and  sixteen, 
nine  being  the  legal  minimum  for  employment,  the  hours 
of  labor  were  restricted  to  twelve.  The  actual  working 
hours  were  from  twelve  and  a  half  to  fourteen  a  day. 
The  factories  began  work  at  6  A.  M.  and  continued  till 
noon.  After  a  half -hour  interval  for  dinner,  sometimes 
used  for  eating  while  attending  the  machinery,  work 
began  again,  and  continued  till  7:30  or  8:30  in  the  eve- 
ning. It  was  a  period  of  unexampled  demand  for  manu- 
factured goods,  and  every  nerve  was  strained  to  supply 
the  need  and  make  large  profits. 

Arguments  against  the  system  were  based  on  the  feel- 
ing that  in  wealthy  and  humane  England,  such  grinding 
conditions  of  work,  with  their  consequent  hardships  and 
loss  of  normal  recreation,  were  unendurable.  Moreover, 
the  moral  and  intellectual  education  of  the  children  was 
sacrificed,  and  they  grew  up  to  be  immoral  and  illiterate 
adults,  undesirable  citizens.  Finally,  the  system,  if  per- 
sisted in,  would  bring  about  the  physical  degeneration  of 
the  industrial  population,  making  diseased  and  deformed 
adults.  On  these  grounds  the  factory  acts  were  urged 
as  necessary  reform  and  preventive  legislation.  But  the 
established  interests  advanced  arguments  against  the 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION          211 

enactment  of  factory  laws  on  the  ground  that  these  acts 
constituted  unjust  and  unnecessary  interference  with  the 
freedom  of  manufacturers,  who,  as  a  class,  were  respon- 
sible for  the  prosperity  of  the  nation  and  the  employment 
of  the  laboring  classes.  Again,  it  was  pointed  out  that 
the  factory  system  was  being  introduced  into  France, 
Belgium,  and  the  United  States,  where  no  legal  restric- 
tions on  work  conditions  prevailed,  and  that  the  inevi- 
table result  would  be  that  English  manufacturers,  ham- 
pered by  the  factory  acts,  would  lose  out  in  the  world 
competition,  to  the  great  embarrassment  of  the  nation. 
Lastly,  the  policy  of  government  regulation  had  been 
tried  for  hundreds  of  years  and  abandoned  as  a  failure, 
because  any  artificial  interference  with  the  natural  laws 
which  controlled  wages,  employment,  and  profits,  was 
inherently  injurious. 

Strangely  enough,  the  economists  were  defeated  on 
ground  which  seemed  peculiarly  to  belong  to  them,  for 
the  philanthropists  won  their  fight  for  the  protection  of 
women  and  children  in  the  factories  and  mines  of  Eng- 
land. In  1831  an  act  forbade  night  work  in  factories  for 
persons  between  nine  and  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and 
fixed  the  working  day  at  twelve  hours,  with  a  nine-hour 
day  on  Saturday  for  all  under  eighteen.  Step  by  step  the 
long  struggle  against  factory  slavery  was  won.  The  Act 
of  1833  extended  the  application  of  restrictive  legislation 
to  woolen  and  other  operatives,  prohibiting  night  work 
to  persons  under  eighteen,  fixing  the  weekly  hours  of 
labor  at  forty-eight  for  children  from  nine  to  thirteen, 
and  at  sixty-eight  for  young  persons  from  thirteen  to 
eighteen.  Factory  inspectors  were  to  be  appointed,  and 
there  was  to  be  provision  for  education.  The  best  evi- 
dence of  the  diminished  employment  of  children,  caused 


212  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

by  these  acts,  is  seen  in  the  great  increase  of  improved 
machines  and  mechanical  labor-saving  devices.  The 
" Children's  Half-time  Act"  was  passed  in  1844.  This 
law  provided  protective  devices  and  safety  rules  for  the 
operation  of  dangerous  machinery,  and  restricted  the 
labor  of  children  to  half  a  day,  the  other  half  to  be  spent 
in  attendance  at  school.  In  addition,  previous  principles 
of  factory  legislation  were  extended  to  cover  the  work  of 
all  women,  under  the  rules  originally  laid  down  for  young 
persons.  Three  years  later,  in  1847,  the  famous  "Ten- 
hour  Act"  was  passed.  By  this  law  the  labor  of  women 
and  young  persons  was  reduced  to  ten  hours  a  day,  and 
the  legal  day  set  at  between  5 :30  A.  M.  and  8 :30  p.  M.  It 
is  estimated  that  the  act  applied  to  360,000  persons.  This 
meant  that  "at  least  three  fourths  of  all  persons  em- 
ployed in  textile  industries  had  their  hours  and  some 
other  conditions  of  labor  directly  regulated  by  law. ' ' 24 

Other  acts  followed,  and  many  much  needed  extensions 
of  their  provisions  have  been  made,  as  well  as  legislative 
enactments  on  other  matters  affecting  the  welfare  of  the 
laboring  classes.  The  modern  tendency  has  therefore 
been  in  the  direction  of  greater  government  regulation, 
and,  in  opposition  to  the  teachings  of  the  superficial  phi- 
losophy of  laissez-faire,  there  is  a  trend  towards  state 
paternalism. 

Modern  government  regulation,  however,  does  not  stop 
with  the  protection  of  labor,  but  extends  to  the  safeguard- 
ing of  the  consumer  and  investor.  This  expansion  of  the 
activities  of  the  state  was  made  necessary  by  the  spread 
of  the  corporate  form  of  organization  in  large-scale  pro- 
duction. The  introduction  of  the  machine  and  of  the 
factory  system  of  manufacture  called  for  the  employment 

24  Cheney,  op.  cit.,  p.  256. 


213 

of  aggregates  of  capital  far  beyond  the  means  of  the  old- 
fashioned  partnership,  and  the  corporate  form  of  enter- 
prise was  adopted  to  meet  the  need.  Although  the  com- 
mercial corporation  existed  long  before  the  industrial 
revolution,  and  the  joint-stock  principle  had  been  applied 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  it  was  not  until  industrial  capi- 
tal, as  distinct  from  commercial  capital,  assumed  domi- 
nant importance  in  the  nineteenth  century,  that  an  im- 
mense expansion  of  corporate  enterprise  took  place. 

Possessing  the  advantages  of  joint-stock  ownership, 
limited  liability,  and  perpetual  life,  the  corporation  sup- 
plied the  necessary  machinery  for  the  successful  capital- 
istic organization  of  production  on  a  large  scale.  In  pro- 
portion to  his  investment,  every  stockholder  has  a  voice 
in  the  enterprise,  and  the  number  of  such  investors  can 
be  increased  indefinitely  because  of  the  device  of  cor- 
porate security,  thus  rendering  possible  vast  accumula- 
tions and  wide  dissemination  of  capital.  Although  the 
shareholders  die  and  disappear,  the  shares  remain,  and 
the  corporation  enjoys  a  continuity  of  existence.  Thus 
the  corporation  possesses  advantages  of  permanence  and 
stability,  and  provides  for  scope  in  planning  ahead  that 
never  fails  to  attract  high  ability. 

'But  the  corporation  has  shortcomings  which  require 
correction,  if  the  consumer  is  to  be  protected  and  the  in- 
vestor safeguarded  from  its  predatory  tendencies.  From 
the  early  form  of  agreement  to  fix  prices,  modern  cor- 
porate enterprise  has  passed  through  various  stages  of 
agreements  to  divide  the  field  between  competitors,  pool 
arrangements  by  which  output  rather  than  price  or  field 
is  restricted  by  agreement,  selling  bureau  agreements  to 
fix  prices  and  output,  and  to  manage  selling,  ordering, 
and  distributing,  the  " trust"  stage,  in  which  constituent 


214  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

enterprises  turned  over  their  business  to  a  central  board 
of  trustees,  and  the  stage  of  the  holding  corporation. 
These  developments  of  business  units  into  larger  and 
larger  combinations  in  possession  of  greater  and  greater 
power,  have  made  it  necessary  for  the  government  of  the 
modern  industrial  nation  to  regulate  corporate  enterprise 
in  the  interest  of  the  innocent  investor  by  enforcing  re- 
sponsibility and  requiring  publicity,  and  to  interfere  with 
monopoly  prices  in  the  interest  of  the  consumer  by  sup- 
plementing competitive  checks  with  legislative  restric- 
tions. So  it  has  happened  that,  in  contemporary  times, 
the  sphere  of  government  regulation  has  widened  to  in- 
clude activities  which  seek  to  protect  the  consumer  and 
investor,  as  well  as  to  safeguard  labor. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION 

THE  industrial  revolution  perfected  the  mechanism  of 
manufacturing  production  and  made  possible  the  enor- 
mous output  of  goods  which  flow  through  the  markets  of 
to-day.  But  the  mechanism  for  distributing  the  vast 
wealth  so  created  is  still  antiquated  and  far  from  being 
adapted  to  requirements  of  the  present  social  order. 
What  we  now  need  is  a  revolution  in  distribution,  in 
order  that  the  inequalities  of  income  may  be  reduced  to 
such  an  extent  that  the  masses  of  the  working  people  may 
obtain  a  larger  share  of  the  annual  production  of  wealth. 

Popular  government  seems  to  be  the  chief  hope  of  those 
who  desire  to  see  this  change  affected.  But  the  poverty 
and  the  destitution,  the  class  separation  and  antagonisms, 
which  came  as  the  inevitable  result  of  the  rapid  progress 
of  the  industrial  revolution,  have  threatened  the  very 
basis  of  democracy.  The  gap  between  the  capitalist  and 
the  working  classes  prevents  the  latter  from  communi- 
cating their  needs  and  desires  in  a  way  which  can  secure 
the  essential  changes. 

Fortunately  for  the  future  of  popular  government  as 
an  instrument  for  the  amelioration  of  social  evils,  a  revo- 
lution has  come  to  pass  in  the  means  of  communication, 
a  transformation  so  thoroughgoing  and  formidable  that 
it  is  quite  comparable  in  importance  and  meaning  with 
the  great  revolutions  in  agriculture  and  manufacturing 
industry  just  described.  The  revolution  in  communica- 

215 


216  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

tion  completes  the  trio  of  great  peaceful  revolutions  that 
have  transformed  modern  society  and  marked  off  contem- 
porary times  from  all  the  past  history  of  mankind.  The 
new  communication  furnishes  the  mechanism  through 
which  the  abuses  of  the  modern  social  order  may  be  cor- 
rected, because  it  injects  new  life  into  popular  govern- 
ment by  supplying  a  medium  for  the  diffusion  in  vivid 
terms  of  truthful  information  about  social  relations. 
With  this  highly  perfected  instrument  of  communication 
at  its  disposal,  democracy  should  be  able  to  devise  a 
means  of  social  control  of  wealth  distribution  that  will 
more  and  more  guarantee  an  equable  sharing  of  the  an- 
nual production  of  wealth.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this 
book  to ,  consider  the  development  and  perfecting  of  a 
new  order  of  distribution.  All  that  will  here  be  at- 
tempted is  a  demonstration  of  the  great  significance  of 
the  new  eommunication  for  the  expression  of  the  popular 
will  and  the  strengthening  of  democracy. 

Considering  the  means  of  transportation  and  commu- 
nication of  two  centuries  ago,  men  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury were  about  as  much  circumscribed  in  thought  and 
limited  in  action  by  material  and  physical  barriers  as 
were  men  of  antiquity.  Vast  oceans,  arid  stretches  of 
desert  region,  and  lofty  and  impassable  mountain  ranges, 
set  definite  limits  upon  the  freedom  of  movement  of  all 
but  a  negligible  few.  The  customs  and  prejudices  of 
each  little  locality  enslaved  the  intelligence  of  the  masses, 
and  encouraged  a  narrow  and  provincial  outlook  upon 
life.  Travel  was  the  luxury  of  a  small  minority,  and 
communication  was  largely  direct  or  by  word  of  mouth. 
Then  came  the  burst  of  scientific  discovery  and  mechani- 
cal invention  in  the  field  of  transportation  and  communi- 
cation that,  beginning  in  the  late  eighteenth  century,  in- 


THE  DEVELOPMENT   OF  THE   LOCOMOTIVE 


By  F.  B.  Masters. 

FIG.  20. — The  development  of  the  locomotive 


217 


218  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

creased  in  volume  and  importance  during  the  nineteenth 
and  twentieth  centuries,  until  at  the  beginning  of  the  sec- 
ond decade  of  the  twentieth  century,  it  seems  as  though 
the  mechanism  of  communication  had  been  largely  per- 
fected. 

In  the  widest  sense  of  the  word,  transportation  is  com- 
munication, for  it  involves  the  transfer  of  material,  or 
physical  objects,  which  themselves  may  be  the  agents  or 
means  of  communication.1  Messages,  mails,  letters,  per- 
sons, and  physical  bodies  are  conveyed  from  place  to 
place  by  the  modern  transportation  system.  It  is,  there- 
fore, as  a  means,  or  an  agent  of  communication  that 
transportation  will  be  considered  in  this  chapter. 

THE   GREAT   INVENTIONS   IN    COMMUNICATION 

The  modern  transportation  system  began  with  the  ap- 
plication of  steam-power  to  motor  vehicles  in  the  early 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  earliest  railway 
vehicle  in  the  United  States  was  used  at  Boston  in  1807. 
George  Stephenson  built  his  first  engine  and  operated  it 
on  the  Killingsworth  railroad  in  1814,  and  traffic  began  on 
the  Stockton  and  Darlington  railroad  in  1825.  The  first 
practicable  electric  railway  was  built  in  1884,  when  an 
overhead  trolley-line  began  operation  in  Kansas  City. 

It  was  not  long  before  steam-power  was  applied  to  wa- 
ter transportation.  Eobert  Fulton's  sidewheel  steamer 
Clermont  began  to  navigate  in  1807.  As  early  as  1801, 
Fulton  had  constructed  and  operated,  with  more  or  less 
success,  a  model  submarine.  But  it  was  not  until  the 
twentieth  century  that  under-water  transportation  at- 
tained any  degree  of  practical  value,  even  for  military 

1  Cooley,  C.  H.,  The  Theory  of  Transportation,  Pub.  Amer.  Economic  Asso- 
ciation, vol.  IX  (1894),  pp.  262-94. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     219 

and  naval  purposes.  On  July  9,  1916,  the  great  commer- 
cial submarine  Deutschland  arrived  at  Baltimore,  having 
eluded  the  Allied  blockade  of  German  ports  and  crossed 
the  Atlantic  ocean  by  means  of  her  own  power  and  fuel. 

Although  transportation  by  automobile  is  of  recent 
development,  a  steam-carriage  was  proposed  by  Newton 
in  1680,  and  a  model  steam-carriage  was  constructed  by 
Nathan  Read  in  1790.  In  1802,  a  steam-carriage  was 
driven  ninety  miles,  and  during  the  period  from  1824  to 
1836  steam-carriages  were  constructed  in  numbers.  The 


FIG.  21. — The  largest  locomotive 

period  of  modern  development  of  the  automobile  began 
in  1894.  It  is  true  that  a  gas-engine  was  constructed  in 
1886,  but  the  successful  internal  combustion  engine  was 
not  constructed  until  George  B.  Sheldon  of  Rochester, 
New  York,  patented  his  device  in  1895. 

Early  efforts  to  conquer  the  air  began  in  1783,  when 
Pilatre  de  Rozier  and  Marquis  d'Arlandes  rose  3000  feet 
and  traveled  nearly  .two  miles  by  balloon.  There  were 
fifty-two  balloon  ascents  in  1784.  The  first  notable  dis- 
tance record  was  made  in  1859  by  two  American  aero- 
nauts who  traveled  1150  miles  at  a  rate  of  about  a  mile 
a  minute.  Colonel  Renard  traveled  twenty-three  miles 
in  a  dirigible  balloon  driven  by  a  motor  screw  in  the  year 
1884.  By  1910  Count  Zeppelin  opened  the  first  regular 
airship  passenger-service  with  the  great  dirigible 
Deutschland.  In  1913,  Zeppelins  carried  a  total  of  12,382 


220  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

passengers  for  trips  as  long  as  five  hours  at  a  time.  Fol- 
lowing the  earlier  experiments  of  Langley  and  Maxim, 
Orville  and  Wilbur  Wright  of  Dayton,  Ohio,  were  the  first 
to  solve  the  problem  of  aviation.  They  flew  twenty-four 
and  one-half  miles  with  a  heavier-than-air  machine  in 
1906.  During  the  last  decade,  the  number  of  different 
aeroplane  models  has  increased,  until  to-day  there  are 
almost  as  many  different  aeroplane  as  automobile  models 
and  the  conquest  of  the  air  seems  practically  completed. 
Thus,  in  the  course  of  about  one  century,  man  has  per- 
fected the  mechanism  of  transportation  in  three  elements 
— on  the  earth,  on  and  under  the  water,  and  through  the 
air. 

Even  more  startling  than  the  rapid  progress  of  inven- 
tion in  transportation,  has  been  the  discovery  and  inven- 
tion of  new  methods  of  direct  communication.  Photog- 
raphy appears  to  have  had  its  beginning  with  the  investi- 
gations of  K.  W.  Scheele  in  1777  as  to  the  darkening 
action  of  sunlight  on  silver  chloride.  The  experiment 
was  repeated  by  J.  Senebier  in  1782.  The  first  real 
photograph  was  produced  in  1802  by  an  Englishman, 
Thomas  Wedgwood.  The  daguerreotype  of  L.  J.  M. 
Daguerre  and  Niepce  was  perfected  in  1839.  Dry  plates 
were  invented  in  1862.  The  first  "kodak/'  using  films, 
was  invented  in  1888.  Frederick  E.  Ives  of  Philadelphia 
invented  the  three-color  process  of  color-photography, 
based  upon  the  combination  of  three  primary  colors,  red, 
green,  and  blue,  in  the  year  1878,  and  further  perfected 
the  process  in  1885.2  Lithography,  begun  in  1798,  be- 
came a  regularly  established  trade  at  Munich  by  1806. 

The  motion-picture  was  invented  by  Dr.  Coleman  Sel- 

2  "The  Invention  and  Development  of  Photography,"  in  The  Scientific 
American  Supplement,  vol.  112,  pp.  530,  560-66. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     221 

lers  of  Philadelphia,  who  patented  the  "kinematoscope" 
in  1861.  The  first  motion-picture  exhibit  was  given  by 
Henry  Heyl  of  Philadelphia  before  an  audience  of  1500 
persons  in  1870.  The  standardization  of  the  motion-pic- 
ture film  and  apparatus  is  now  complete,  and  the  Smith- 
Urban  kinemacolor  process,  and  the  Gaumont  three-color 
process  have  recently  been  introduced.  New  develop- 
ments have  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  talking-motion- 
picture,  known  as  the  "kenetophone"  (invented  by  Edi- 
son in  1913),  in  which  there  is  a  synchronization  of  screen 
pictures  and  the  spoken  word.  Since  the  inventions  of 
M.  Gaumont  of  Paris,  in  1902  and  1912,  motion-pictures 
in  natural  colors  have  been  possible  in  connection  with  the 
kenetophone.3 

One  of  the  most  extraordinary,  as  well  as  useful  inven- 
tions of  new  communication  is  the  phonograph.  Thomas 
Young,  in  1807,  described  a  method  of  recording  the  vi- 
brations of  a  tuning-fork  on  the  surface  of  a  drum.  The 
"phonautograph"  of  Leon  Scott,  used  in  1857  to  record 
the  vibration  of  a  membrane,  seems  to  have  been  the  real 
precursor  of  the  phonograph.  But  it  was  Thomas  A. 
Edison  who  first  accomplished  the  reproduction  of  vibra- 
tions of  sounds  on  moving  surfaces.  Edison  patented  his 
device  in  1877.  Other  sound-recording  machines  soon 
followed.  Alexander  Graham  Bell  and  S.  Tanier  pat- 
ented the  graphophone  in  1885,  while  Emile  Berliner  pat- 
ented the  gramophone  in  1887.  , 

The  first  practical  use  of  the  principles  of  Volta's  bat- 
tery and  Sturgeon's  electro-magnet  was  made  by  Joseph 
Henry  of  Washington,  D.  C.,  in  1831.  Samuel  F.  B. 
Morse  invented  the  commercially  practicable  system  of 
telegraphy  in  1837.  After  preliminary  experimental  work 

3  Ibid.,  vol.  108,  p.  539. 


PASSENGER-  AND   FREIGHT   GIANTS    OF  TO-DAY 


By  F.  B.  Masters. 


FIG   22. — Modern  types  of  locomotive 


222 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     223 

between  1845  and  1888,  the  first  practical  application  of 
electric-wave  wireless-telegraphy  was  made  by  Guglielmo 
Marconi  in  1896.  In  1851,  the  first  successful  submarine 
cable  was  laid,  and  in  1857  and  1865  Trans-Atlantic  cables 
were  put  down.  The  most  recent  developments  in  the 
field  of  telegraphy  is  facsimile-telegraphy  and  photo- 
telegraphy. Alexander  Bain  invented  a  copying  machine 
in  1843,  and  transmitted  handwriting  by  telegraphy  in 
1847.  From  1898  to  1909  telautography  was  used  in  con- 
nection with  the  wireless  system. 

Alexander  Graham  Bell  established  the  first  commer- 
cially practicable  telephone  system  during  the  period 
1875  to  1877,  having  patented  his  invention  in  1875. 
Bell's  work  was  the  outgrowth  of  experimentation  which 
had  begun  as  early  as  1831. 

Somewhat  less  spectacular  and  startling  than  these  re- 
markable single  inventions  and  their  combinations,  has 
been  the  appearance  and  wide  use  of  the  cheap  newspaper 
(since  the  1830 's),  low-priced  magazines,  and  inexpensive 
books.  Yet  these  changes,  as  well  as  improvements  in- 
troduced by  the  linotype  machine  and  the  typewriter  in 
the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  have  had  a 
profound  influence  in  creating  the  new  communication. 

THE   EXPRESSIVENESS   OF   THE    NEW   COMMUNICATION 

If  we  attempt  to  analyze  and  describe  the  characteris- 
tics of  the  new  communication,  four  factors  may  be  dis- 
tinguished which,  according  to  Professor  Cooley,4  have 
mainly  contributed  to  its  efficiency.  These  aspects  of  the 
new  mechanism  of  communication  are :  expressiveness,  or 
the  range  of  ideas  and  feelings  it  is  competent  to  carry; 
permanence  of  record,  or  the  overcoming  of  time ;  swift- 

*  Social  Organisation,  1912,  p.  80. 


224  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ness,  or  the  overcoming  of  space;  and  diffusion,  or  its 
access  to  all  classes  of  men.  This  classification  is  about 
as  significant  and  comprehensive  as  any,  and  we  may  now 
examine  the  sociological  importance  of  the  new  commu- 
nication in  the  light  of  it. 

Through  the  medium  of  the  photograph  in  its  half-tone 
and  color  processes,  by  means  of  the  motion-picture  and 
the  phonograph,  and  their  synchronization  in  the  keneto- 
phone,  through  the  channel  of  the  telephone  and  the  large- 
scale  printing  of  penny  newspapers,  cheap  magazines, 
and  inexpensive  books,  the  range  of  ideas  and  feelings 
which  the  modern  mechanism  of  communication  is  com- 
petent to  express  has  been  extended  to  cover  all  aspects 
of  modern  social  life.  These  inventions  in  communica- 
tion make  it  possible  for  society  to  be  more  and  more 
organized  on  a  basis  of  the  higher  faculties  of  intelli- 
gence and  sympathy,  and  less  and  less  dependent  on  the 
crude  unifying  influences  of  authority,  caste,  and  routine. 

The  postal  system  furnishes  the  material  means  by 
which  personal  communications,  newspapers,  and  maga- 
zines may  be  sent  to  the  uttermost  corners  of  the  earth, 
and  intelligence  about  world  events  radiates  from  metro- 
politan centers  to  remote  rural  localities. 

The  American  one-cent  newspaper  provides  a  Euro- 
pean news  service  of  remarkable  fullness,  a  lavish  amount 
of  information  about  local,  state,  and  national  politics, 
educational  news  of  schools,  colleges,  and  societies,  reli- 
gious and  church  news,  women's  clubs  and  suffrage  news, 
articles  and  news  about  music,  drama,  new  books,  social 
service,  and  innumerable  agencies  of  civic  activity. 
Then  there  is  considerable  space  devoted  to  such  sports 
as  baseball,  foot-ball,  racing,  tennis,  hockey,  golf,  skat- 
ing, and  aquatics.  The  commercial  section  embraces  in- 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     227 

formation  about  all  markets  and  trades,  and  devotes 
much  space  to  real  estate.  The  Sunday  supplements 
publish  excellent  photographic  reproductions  illustrating 
specially  significant  or  interesting  occurrences  at  home 
and  abroad.  The  ' '  funny  sheet, ' '  or  comic  page,  has  ap- 
parently become  one  of  the  established  institutions  of  the 
American  press. 

Magazines  are  of  all  sorts.  They  may  be  classified  on 
the  basis  of  the  human  activity  or  field  of  thought  which 
they  endeavor  to  express.  There  are  a  multitude  of  sci- 
entific, religious,  artistic,  trade,  business,  agricultural, 
and  manufacturing  periodicals,  in  addition  to  the  few 
high-grade  literary  publications,  and  the  many  cheap  and 
frothy  magazines. 

Photography  has  enormously  increased  our  capacity  of 
expression.  Great  paintings,  beautiful  architecture, 
natural  wonders  of  forest,  stream,  mountain,  plain,  and 
sea,  as  well  as  the  varied  aspects  of  the  human  face,  are 
faithfully  reproduced  in  soft  half-tones  and  striking  con- 
trasts. The  unsanitary  tenement  with  its  rickety  stairs, 
dark  halls,  filthy  plumbing,  and  cracked  walls  is  just  as 
graphically  shown  as  the  marble  stairways  and  rich  hang- 
ings of  the  palace.  Public  sympathy  is  aroused  in  sup- 
port of  reform  legislation  to  remedy  bad  housing,  tuber- 
culosis, "sweating,"  child-labor,  and  uncompensated  in- 
dustrial accidents  by  vivid  photographic  representations 
of  the  trail  of  misery  and  squalor  that  follows  these  evil 
conditions.  Stereoscopic  views  of  foreign  countries  real- 
istically portray  the  charm  of  their  natural  scenery  and 
architecture.  In  art  books,  in  popular  magazines,  and  on 
post-cards,  views  of  all  sorts  are  printed  in  natural  colors. 

Moving-pictures  seem  unusually  real  because  they  ex- 
press the  motion  and  action  that  earlier  photography 


228 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


failed  to  catch.  The  rushing  torrent,  the  magnificent 
waterfall,  the  splashing  surf,  the  even  flight  of  a  bird,  the 
speed  of  an  express-train,  the  course  of  a  sailing  vessel, 
the  surging  of  a  crowd,  the  rhythmical  march  of  line  upon 
line  of  troops,  and  the  facial  expressions  of  mirth,  laugh- 
ter, sorrow,  weeping,  fear,  and  joy, — all  are  reproduced 
with  impressive  fidelity.1 


FIG.  24. — Evolution  of  the  submarine:  the  Turtle  of  David  Bushnell 

Yet  the  motion-picture  does  more  than  represent  ex- 
ternal and  objective  things.  It  is  capable  of  expressing 
the  subtler  mental  processes  far  more  forcibly  than  the 
ordinary  photograph.  Emotion,  feeling,  and  imagina- 
tion may  be  interpreted  upon  the  screen  by  a  fleeting 
glimpse  of  past  events  aroused  in  memory.  The  phan- 
tom of  a  dead  loved  one  appears  to  stay  the  hand  of  the 
murderer.  Thus  by  a  clever  deception  of  photography 
the  audience  is  enabled  to  visualize  images  that  pass 
through  the  hero's  mind  in  quick  succession  and  explain 
his  hidden  motives,  moods,  and  action  better  than  any 
words  or  facial  expression  alone.  Professor  Miinster- 
berg  has  said:  "It  is  the  only  visual  art  in  which  the 
whole  richness  of  our  inner  life,  our  perceptions,  our 
memory,  and  our  imagination,  our  expectation,  and  our  at- 


THE  KEVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     229 

tention  can  be  made  living  in  the  outer  expressions  them- 
selves."5 Indeed,  so  insinuating  are  the  suggestions  of 
motion-picture  plays  that  it  has  seemed  necessary  to  exer- 
cise a  degree  of  social  control  over  the  type  of  "reel" 
exhibited  to  the  public  by  means  of  a  voluntary  board  of 
censorship. 

The  extraordinary  range  of  expression  and  usefulness 
of  the  motion-picture  has  found  application  in  the  educa- 


FIG.  25. — Evolution  of  the  submarine:  the 
Nautilus  of  Robert  Fulton 

tional  field.  The  authorities  of  Vienna  and  Dusseldorf 
teach  their  citizens  how  to  get  on  and  off  street-cars  safely 
by  means  of  motion-pictures.  A  group  of  manufacturers 
have  equipped  an  " industrial  betterment  special"  which 
uses  motion-pictures  to  teach  workmen  how  to  avoid  acci- 
dents and  care  for  machinery.  A  Pacific  Coast  railroad 
has  a  "reel"  which  shows  trainmen  the  rules  of  the  road 
and  the  consequences  of  carelessness.  The  United  States 
Department  of  Agriculture  has  an  up-to-date  motion-pic- 

5  The  Cosmopolitan  Magazine,  December,  1915.  * 


230  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ture  laboratory  where  the  germination  of  seeds  and  the 
growth  of  flowers  are  photographed.  During  the  summer 
of  1914  ten  thousand  feet  of  reel,  showing  forest-fires, 
ranger's  life,  and  the  use  of  national  forests  for  recrea- 
tion purposes,  was  exhibited  throughout  the  West.6 
"Rube  theaters"  were  sent  to  the  rural  sections,  educat- 
ing farmers  to  the  importance  of  good  roads,  giving  com- 
plete courses  in  poultry-farming  that  covered  such  details 
as  raising  hens,  packing  and  sorting  eggs,  marketing, 
routes,  and  so  forth,  and  showing  how  wheat  grows  from 
the  planting  of  the  seed,  through  its  stages  of  growth  to 
the  final  processes  of  harvesting  and  shipping.  Automo- 
bile companies  and  manufacturing  concerns  utilize  mo- 
tion-pictures to  instruct  their  salesmen.7 

In  the  field  of  medicine  and  science,  there  have  been  re- 
markable applications.  In  France,  by  use  of  motion- 
pictures,  deaf-mutes  are  taught  to  talk.  The  nature,  pre- 
vention, and  cure  of  disease  may  be  successfully  shown. 
Diagnosis  of  nervous  diseases  characterized  by  quick 
movements,  tremors,  peculiar  gaits,  convulsions,  and 
spasms,  is  assisted  by  use  of  the  motion-picture.  Motion- 
pictures  are  also  useful  in  the  study  of  diseases  of  the 
eye,  whooping-cough,  meningitis,  the  right  and  wrong 
methods  of  bathing  and  dressing  a  child,  the  movement 
and  growth  of  bacilli,  and  in  obstetrical  surgery  and  epi- 
lepsy. Motion-pictures  have  been  used  to  illustrate  mod- 
ern methods  in  social  work.  The  National  Association 
for  the  Prevention  of  Tuberculosis  uses  a  scenario  to  show 
the  cure  of  tuberculosis.  Screen-pictures  of  Les  Miser- 

e  Outlook,  vol.  109,  pp.  749-50. 

i  Lanier,  H.  W.,  "The  Educational  Future  of  the  Motion  Picture,"  Review 
of  Reviews,  vol.  50,  pp.  725-29;  and  Mason,  G.,  "Teaching  by  Movies," 
Outlook,  vol.  107,  pp.  963-70. 


ti     I 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     233 

dbles  have  been  shown  in  reformatory  institutions  to  con- 
vey a  moral  lesson.  Dr.  Alexis  Carrel  of  the  Rockefeller 
Institute  and  Dr.  Doyen  of  Paris  have  spread  information 
of  unusual  feats  of  surgery  by  means  of  the  motion-pic- 
ture. It  is  planned  to  aid  country  physicians  by  sending 
out  " reels"  which  show  the  master  surgeon  in  action. 
Motion-pictures  show  microbes  at  work.  X-ray  motion- 
pictures  show  the  stomach  and  muscles  performing  their 
functions,  and  the  palpitating  heart.  By  film,  it  is  possi- 
ble to  produce  in  three  minutes,  a  ten-day  period  of 
growth  in  a  horse-chestnut.  Slow  motions  can  be  has- 
tened to  observe  the  total  effect  in  truer  perspective.  It 
is  equally  possible  to  retard,  and  so  analyze  quick  move- 
ments like  the  flight  of  insects,  the  course  of  a  projectile 
and  its  effect  on  armor  plate,  and  the  falling  of  a  body. 

Some  of  the  direct  uses  of  motion-pictures  for  educa- 
tional purposes  are  worthy  of  note.  Films  have  been 
employed  to  assist  a  pupil  to  make  a  choice  of  vocation. 
School  children  now  study  geography  in  Ontario,  Canada, 
by  means  of  the  "movies.'*  Greece  has  four  thousand 
machines  for  use  in  government  schools.  The  University 
of  Wisconsin  has  a  film  library  which  is  circulated 
throughout  the  state,  and  many  other  colleges  and  uni- 
versities in  the  United  States  use  motion-pictures.  Su- 
perintendent Hyatt  of  California  has  said:  "The  time 
is  at  hand  when  moving-pictures  will  be  as  much  an  ad- 
junct of  any  properly  equipped  school  as  text-books." 
Dr.  Wallin  says :  "It  represents  the  most  highly  evolved 
education  instrument  which  the  present  century  has  be- 
queathed. ' ' 8 

But  the  new  communication  has  passed  beyond  the  stage 
of  mute  appeal  by  photograph  and  motion-picture ;  it  has 

8  Lanier,  op.  cit. 


234  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

made  notable  conquests  in  the  realm  of  sound.  By  tele- 
phone, the  finest  graduations  of  tone,  and  the  subtler  qual- 
ities of  the  human  voice  are  faithfully  transmitted  and  re- 
produced over  great  distances,  so  that  a  person's  state  of 
feeling,  whether  of  joy,  sorrow,  anger,  pleasure,  depres- 
sion, or  exaltation  may  be  correctly  expressed.  The 
music  of  the  human  voice,  and  of  full  orchestral  instru- 
ments, is  recorded  upon  a  wax  disk,  and  reproduced  with 
great  fidelity  to  details.  Thus  the  whole  gamut  of  human 
passion,  feeling,  emotion,  and  sentiment  is  made  increas- 
ingly communicable  and  recordable.  George  Bernard 
Shaw  says  he  will  not  be  surprised  if  the  cinematograph 
and  the  phonograph  turn  out  to  be  the  most  revolutionary 
inventions  in  communication  since  the  discovery  of  writ- 
ing and  printing. 

SWIFTNESS  IN   OVERCOMING  SPACE 

James  Bryce  has  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  Great 
War  might  have  been  averted  had  it  not  been  for  the 
speed  with  which  the  cable,  telegraph,  and  telephone 
flashed  news  between  the  capitals  of  Europe  during  those 
dramatic  closing  days  of  July,  1914.  If  news  had  spread 
less  rapidly,  perhaps  the  slower  processes  of  diplomacy 
might  have  been  given  opportunity  to  work, — at  least,  the 
statesmen  of  Europe  would  have  been  saved  the  necessity 
of  making  tremendously  important  decisions  at  short  no- 
tice. 

It  takes  but  an  instant  to  transmit  the  human  voice  by 
telephone  to  a  far  distant  point.  By  telegraph,  news  radi- 
ates from  central  places,  and  flashes  across  oceans  and 
over  continents  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time.  On 
Oct.  4, 1915,  Mr.  Theodore  N.  Vail  in  New  York,  picked  up 
his  desk-telephone  and  conversed  easily  with  San  Fran- 


tx: 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     237 

cisco.  Thus  the  human  voice,  hardly  audible  at  a  hun- 
dred yards,  was  carried  more  than  3000  miles,  and  2500 
miles  of  this  distance  was  by  wireless.  The  same  conver- 
sation was  overheard  by  a  wireless  operator  in  Hawaii, 
4800  miles  distant.  Suitable  receiving  stations  at  Petro- 
grad,  Timbuktu,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  or  the  North  Pole  could 
have  heard  the  same  conversation.  The  fast  express- 
train  carries  the  morning  newspaper,  printed  in  the  me- 
tropolis, to  towns  and  villages  that  lie  two  hundred  miles 
distant.  The  Atlantic  ocean  may  be  crossed  in  less  than 
five  days.  The  automobile  and  the  aeroplane  complete 
man's  emancipation  from  the  ancient  disadvantage  of  re- 
mote locatkm  and  inaccessibility. 

THE   DIFFUSION    OF   INTELLIGENCE 

The  aggregate  railroad  mileage  of  the  world  in  1913 
was  estimated  at  690,133  miles,  of  which  257,823  miles 
were  in  the  United  States.  Nearly  two  billion  and  one- 
half  cars  were  operated  on  the  trackage  of  the  United 
States  during  the  same  year.  Some  idea  of  the  diffusion 
of  intelligence  made  possible  by  the  railroad  systems  of 
this  country  may  be  gained  from  the  fact  that  the  total 
passenger  movement  in  1910  was  32,388,870,444  miles,  in- 
volving the  transportation  of  998,735,432  persons.  Over 
one  billion  passengers  were  carried  in  1913.  But  the  real 
significance  for  communication  of  this  vast  rail  movement 
is  seen  in  its  relation  to  the  mail  service.  In  1915,  there 
were  56,380  post-offices  and  mail  routes,  with  a  total  mile- 
age of  433,334.  During  the  one  week  of  October  12th  to 
19th,  1907,  the  total  of  all  classes  of  mail  despatched  was 
246,020,347  pieces,  of  which  133,035,673  were  first  class. 

The  amount  of  printed  matter  in  the  form  of  personal 
communications  transmitted  by  railroad  and  other  mail 


238  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

service  is  incalculable,  but  it  is  possible  to  gain  an  idea  of 
the  diffusion  of  information  by  means  of  the  daily  news- 
paper circulated  in  urban  regions  and  radiated  into  the 
surrounding  country.  In  New  York  City  alone,  the  aver- 
age daily  circulation  of  newspapers  was  3,883,499,  among 
1,020,827  families  and  4,766,833  individuals,  in  1914.  The 
largest  newspaper  press  in  use  in  1911  had  a  capacity  of 
96,000  sixteen-page  papers  per  hour,  folded  to  half  size 
and  counted.  From  1850  to  1909,  the  per  capita  circula- 
tion of  periodicals  increased  from  18  to  129,  which  means 
that  the  average  American  now  receives  more  than  seven 
times  as  many  periodicals  as  in  1850.  During  this  period, 
the  number  of  different  periodicals  published  increased 
more  than  eightfold.  Finally,  reference  to  the  increas- 
ing volume  of  printed  matter  would  not  be  complete  with- 
out mention  of  the  eight  thousand  public  libraries  of  the 
United  States,  whose  millions  of  volumes,  circulated  each 
year,  represent  radiant  points  of  intelligence  power  of 
which  it  is  hard  to  overestimate. 

This  new  communication  has  wrought  its  greatest 
benefits  in  rural  communities.  Isolation  from  the  vast 
currents  of  men  and  ideas  that  move  along  the  more  ac- 
cessible river-valleys  and  over  the  fertile  alluvial  plains 
where  great  cities  have  arisen,  is  the  great  curse  of  the 
country.  The  influences  that  have  revolutionized  the  life 
of  country  folk  are  found  within  the  limits  of  the  new 
communication. 

About  twenty  million  country  people  received  mail 
daily  over  the  forty  thousand  odd  rural  mail  routes  dur- 
ing 1909.  The  distribution  of  metropolitan  dailies  brings 
to  the  remote  village  news  of  the  throbbing  life  of  the  city, 
and  serves  as  a  constant  stimulus  to  thought  and  action. 
The  farmer  and  his  boys  are  now  able  to  intelligently  dis- 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     239 

cuss  the  great  interests  of  humanity.  This  broadens  and 
enriches  their  lives  to  an  incalculable  degree,  and  pre- 
vents mental  stagnation.  Fiske9  mentions  one  rural 
route  upon  which  the  number  of  daily  newspapers  deliv- 
ered increased  in  three  years  from  13  to  113.  The  num- 
ber of  rural  free  delivery  carriers  in  1915  was  43,710,  and 
the  daily  mileage,  1,073,099. 

Although  the  steam  railroad  has  opened  up  whole  sec- 
tions for  settlement,  and  served  as  an  important  artery  of 
communication  for  the  continuous  influx  of  fresh  thought 
and  world  standards,  it  is  the  interurban  trolley  that  has, 
in  recent  years,  contributed  most  to  the  enlargement  of 
rural  life  and  possibilities.  For  the  electric  railway  does 
what  the  steam  railroad  cannot  do :  it  provides  frequent 
service  and  stops,  at  a  small  fare.  Its  passenger-rates 
vary  from  three  quarters  to  one  and  one-half  cents  a  mile, 
compared  with  two  to  three  cents  on  steam  roads.  Cheap 
construction,  low  expense  for  power,  low  maintenance, 
and  equipment  costs,  make  these  rates  possible.  The 
frequent  stops  and  small  charge  for  fare  facilitate  visit- 
ing and  travel.  Says  Dr.  Roads :  "No  king  one  hundred 
years  ago  could  have  had  a  coach,  warmed  in  winter, 
lighted  to  read  at  night,  running  smoothly  with  scarcely 
a  jolt,  and  more  swiftly  than  the  fastest  horses."  10 

The  final  step  in  transportation  which  has  emancipated 
rural  life  from  its  agelong  inaccessibility  and  stagnation, 
is  the  inexpensive  automobile.  Its  low  running-cost 
makes  the  automobile  as  much  of  a  necessity  for  the 
farmer  as  agricultural  machinery.  It  annihilates  dis- 
tance, makes  isolation  a  myth,  and  as  a  means  of  com- 
munication outstrips  all  but  the  telephone.  A  consider- 

9  The  Challenge  of  the  Country,  1912. 

10  Rural  Christendom,  p.  84. 


240 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


able  proportion  of  the  two  million  automobiles  in  the 
United  States  in  1915  were  owned  by  farmers. 

With  the  coming  of  the  rural  telephone,  distant  neigh- 


St.  Nicholas.  Jan.,  1910. 

FIG.  28. — Wilbur  Wright's  first  aeroplane  trip  over 
water  by  the  Statue  of  Liberty 

bors  are  brought  nearer,  and  the  family  circle  is  widened. 
The  dreary  winter  months  are  not  as  monotonous  as  for- 
merly, for  association  by  the  distinctly  personal  element 


THE  EEVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     241 

of  the  human  voice  is  now  possible  without  actual  visiting. 
Advice,  information,  and  gossip  are  freely  exchanged,  and 
many  needless  trips  over  weary  miles  of  country  road  are 
saved.  Fiske  estimates  that  there  were  at  least  266,969 
rural  telephones  in  1902. 

Telephone  service  now  extends  over  the  whole  globe. 
In  1911,  there  were  11,235,987  telephone  stations  in  the 
world,  sending  messages  over  26,644,367  miles  of  wire. 
In  1915,  the  Bell  Telephone  Company's  system  in  the 
United  States  alone  contained  over  nine  million  telephone 
stations.  Since  1895,  the  number  of  daily  messages  and 
conversations  has  increased  over  tenfold.  This  means 
that  at  the  present  time  one  person  out  of  every  four,  as 
compared  with  but  one  person  out  of  every  twenty  seven 
in  1895,  converses  daily  over  the  telephone. 

Communication  by  photography  is  now  within  the  reach 
of  practically  all  classes  in  America.  The  " Brownie" 
camera  costs  but  a  small  sum,  and  its  films,  developing 
and  printing,  are  also  inexpensive.  Small  " Ping-pong" 
pictures  are  within  the  means  of  the  poorest  workingman. 
The  penny  post-card,  colored  with  great  realism,  is  a 
cheap  and  wonderfully  satisfactory  means  of  communi- 
cating by  mail. 

Perhaps  the  most  democratic  of  the  new  arts  of  photo- 
graphic communication  is  the  low-priced  motion-picture 
show.  During  1915,  it  is  estimated  that  daily  attendance 
at  the  "  mo  vies"  averaged  from  four  to  ten  million  per- 
sons. When  eighty  per  cent,  of  the  wage-earning  popula- 
tion of  the  United  States  earns  less  than  $750  a  year,11  it 
is  clear  that  the  ordinary  theater,  with  its  dollar  and 
two  dollar  seats,  fails  to  supply  the  popular  need.  At  the 

11  Nearing,  S.,  "The  Adequacy  of  American  Wages,"  Awnals  of  the  Amer. 
Acad.  of  Pol.  &  Soc.  Science,  May,  1915. 


242  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

1  'movies,"  a  man  and  his  family  of  children  may  spend 
the  evening,  see  such  a  variety  of  * '  reels ' '  that  all  tastes 
are  pleased,  and  then,  if  disappointed,  feel  little  sense  of 
loss.  Perhaps  the  patronage  of  the  wage-earners  of  the 
nation,  who  have  lived  perpetually  close  to  the  sterner 
realities  of  life,  supplies  an  element  which  the  drama 
needs.12  But  the  truly  democratic  character  of  the  mo- 
tion-picture is  seen  in  its  extraordinary  diffusion  as  a 
means  of  entertainment.  Bernard  Shaw  suggests  that 
the  "movies"  will  make  it  possible  for  our  young  people 
to  grow  up  in  healthy  remoteness  from  the  crowded 
masses  and  slums  of  big  cities,  without  also  growing  up 
as  savages.13  It  reaches  the  Russian  mujik,  the  China- 
man, the  Peruvian,  as  well  as  the  New  Yorker — in  fact, 
all  nations  and  ages,  and  both  sexes.  It  has  entered  the 
daily  stream  of  thought  of  the  masses,  for  while  the  tech- 
nique of  the  theater  was  a  subject  for  scholars  and  pro- 
fessionals, the  crowd  is  quite  capable  of  intelligently 
discussing  the  "movies."  The  common  people  know 
how  the  films  are  made,  what  the  costs  are,  and  the  names 
of  the  leading  actors.  The  Nation  says  that  the  produc- 
ers of  moving-pictures  "have  converted  their  entire 
audience  into  first  nighters."14  The  masses  are  more 
than  mere  critics ;  they  are  authors.  Everybody  is  writ- 
ing moving-picture  scenarios. 

Under  the  caption,  The  Future  Home  Theater,15  Mr.  S. 
C.  Gilfillan  has  anticipated  the  social  effects  of  the  "talk- 
ing-motion-picture "  in  a  somewhat  prophetic  article.  He 
believes  that  the  talking-motion-picture  and  the  electric- 

12  Eaton,  W.  P.,  "Class  Consciousness  and  the  Movies,"  Atlantic  Monthly, 
vol.  115,  pp.  48-56. 

is  Metropolitan  Magazine,  1915. 

«  Vol.  97,  p.  193. 

is  The  Independent,  vol.  73,  pp.  886-91. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     243 

vision  apparatus  connected  with  the  telephone  will  eventu- 
ally become  so  inexpensive  that  the  apparatus  will  be  in- 
stalled in  every  house,  like  the  country  telephone,  so  that 
one  may  go  to  the  theater  and  the  opera  without  leaving 
home.  This  "home  theater"  will  be  a  combination  of  the 
kenetoscope,  phonograph,  and  telephone.  When  color- 
photography  and  stereoscopy  are  added,  the  scenes  will 


FIG.  29. — Morse's  telegraph  instrument 

be  three-dimensional ;  not  flat  pictures,  but  vistas  of  real- 
ity. The  device  will  send  sight  and  sound  from  a  central 
stage  to  millions  of  homes  by  using  telephone  wires  as 
communicating  means.  The  sound  may  be  increased  by 
use  of  the  michrophone,  and  thus  made  distinctly  audible 
all  over  the  room.  The  theater  is  completed  by  moving- 
colored-stereoscopic-pictures  thrown  upon  the  wall. 

Mr.  Gilfillan  holds  that  the  electric  form  of  the  "home 
theater"  will  be  used  to  publish  the  more  timely  and  popu- 
lar productions,  while  the  disk  and  film  apparatus  will  be 


244  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

utilized  to  show  past  occurrences.  He  maintains  that  a 
better  art  will  be  produced,  since  the  artists  will  be  in- 
spired by  accessible  records  of  masters  of  the  past ;  that 
the  moral  tone  will  be  better  than  that  of  the  present  the- 
ater, because  the  electric  form  will  be  supported  by  family 
audiences ;  and  that  the  disks  and  films  distributed  from 
public  libraries  can  be  easily  censored  at  the  point  of  dis- 
tribution. Such  a  synchronous  device  would  have  great 
educational  value,  and  it  is  possible  that  every  large 
apartment-house  would  have  connections.  Finally,  it  will 
tend  powerfully  to  preserve  the  home.  This  forecast  is 
no  idle  prophecy.  The  City  of  Budapest,  Hungary,  has 
had  a  "Telephone  Herald"  service  for  fifteen  years, 
which  distributes  hourly  news,  editorials,  speeches,  lan- 
guage lessons,  music  of  all  sorts,  and  the  audible  parts  of 
the  best  plays.  Yet,  however  advantageous  the  "home 
theater"  principle  may  prove,  it  is  certain  that  public 
gatherings  at  theaters  and  motion-picture  shows  will  con- 
tinue, for  the  simple  reason  that  the  imperious  call  of 
man's  gregarious  instinct  and  sociable  dispositions  will 
ever  lead  him  to  bathe  his  being  in  the  stimulating  at- 
mosphere that  overhangs  and  permeates  every  crowd. 

Although  the  "home  theater"  as  a  means  of  diffusion 
of  information  and  intelligence  is  as  yet  a  thing  of  the 
future,  the  disk  phonograph  is  very  much  a  thing  of  the 
present.  The  family  of  small  means  may  now  sit  com- 
fortably at  home  and  listen  to  the  clear  notes  of  Farrar 
and  Caruso  emanating  from  the  talking  machine.  They 
may  teach  their  children  appreciation  of  good  music  with- 
out the  necessity  of  lavish  expenditure  for  opera  seats. 
The  washerwoman  in  her  tenement,  the  wood-chopper  in 
his  cabin,  and  the  cowboy  of  the  prairie,  may  hear  good 
music,  if  they  choose,  from  the  cheap  phonograph. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     245 


PERMANENCE   OP   RECORD — THE   OVERCOMING   OF   TIME 

The  historian  of  the  future  will  find  a  wealth  of  ma- 
terial in  newspaper  files,  current  magazines,  and  books, 


St.  Nicholas,  Mar.,   1910. 

FIG.  30. — Telegraphing  a  thousand  words  a  minute 

which  the  earlier  scholar  could  never  have  consulted.  It 
is  not  hard  to  forecast  the  tremendous  scientific  impor- 
tance for  latter-day  historians  and  sociologists  of  the 


246  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

great  mass  of  material  about  common-place  events  and 
happenings  that  is  described  with  considerable  accuracy 
in  the  news  columns  of  papers  and  magazines  of  to-day. 

This  rich  mine  of  printed  verbal  description  is  made 
vivid,  accurate,  and  realistic  as  no  former  manuscript  ever 
was,  by  photographic  reproductions  of  the  actual  events. 
There  is  no  escape  from  the  evidence  of  a  photograph  and 
lithograph,  and  future  scholars  will  be  in  a  position  of 
great  vantage  in  studying  the  past. 

By  means  of  the  motion-picture,  the  true  movements  of 
extinct  animals  and  obsolete  industrial  processes  will  be 
preserved  for  coming  generations.  It  will  be  possible  to 
compare  contemporary  methods  and  scientific  technic  with 
those  of  the  past.  The  motion-picture  films  of  the  Great 
War  will  be  of  incalculable  value  to  future  students  of 
military  science.  Realistic  information  about  sports, 
games,  and  folk-dances  can  be  indefinitely  preserved. 
The  peculiar  grace  of  movement,  the  personal  charm  of 
facial  expression  of  great  actors,  can  be  reproduced  for 
the  admiring  observation  of  coming  generations  of  lovers 
of  the  drama.  Edison  has  said:  "The  next  generation 
of '  stars ?  will  not  die  with  their  artistic  death.  The  pho- 
nograph and  the  motion-picture  will  preserve  them. ' ' 

Old  books  which  described  savage  life  depicted  the  na- 
tives in  Europeanized  appearance.  All  this  was  changed 
by  photographic  representation.  Similarly,  old  hand- 
books on  the  music  of  primitive  peoples  contained  Euro- 
peanized versions.  The  phonograph  has  remedied  this 
error.  Ethnological  museums  now  contain  collections  of 
photographs  of  primitive  peoples  and  primitive  life,  and 
also  phonographic  cylinders  and  gramophone  disk-rec- 
ords of  primitive  music  and  languages.  The  great  fa- 
cility with  which  sound-records  can  be  duplicated  renders 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     247 

exchange  easy,  so  that  these  precious  records  have  wide 
distribution  and  may  be  preserved  indefinitely.  Tone- 
pictures  should  be  taken  of  every  rare  and  passing  dialect, 
and  of  all  old  ballads,  so  that  future  students  of  mankind 
may  have  access  to  first-hand  records  of  the  past.  The 
English  language  is  changing.  There  was,  in  1911,  but 
one  clergyman  who  could  conduct  divine  service  in  Wen- 
dish.  It  was  some  time  ago  that  the  last  man  to  speak 
the  Cornish  language  died.  The  Mecklenburg  dialect,  in 
which  Fritz  Renter  wrote  his  Onkel  Brasig,  is  already 
obsolete.  Many  of  the  queer  costumes  of  peasantry  have 
already  vanished,  and  folk-songs,  country  dances,  and 
turns  of  rural  speech  appear  to  be  fast  following  them.16 

SOCIAL,  EFFECTS   OF   THE  NEW   COMMUNICATION 

The  disappearance  of  dialects  and  localisms  before  the 
standardizing  sweep  of  universal  ideas  as  carried  by  the 
new  mechanism  of  communication,  is  a  phenomenon  of 
general  observation.  Some  consider  this  a  serious  men- 
ace to  individuality,  and  see  in  it  an  ultimate  dead  level 
of  uniformity  in  human  thought  and  aspiration.  De 
Toqueville,  whose  name  has  been  associated  with  this  doc- 
trine, fears  that  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  each  in- 
dividual will  soon  be  entirely  submerged  and  lost  in  the 
general  aspect  of  the  world.17  The  naturalist,  John  Bur- 
roughs, maintains  that  our  separate  personalities  are 
likely  to  be  worn  down  and  smoothed  off  by  the  constant 
intercommunication  and  friction  of  travel,  streets,  books, 
and  newspapers,  until  we  shall  become  like  pebbles  upon 
the  same  shore,  and  all  alike.18 

is  Kelley,  E.  S.,  "A  Library  of  Living  Melody,"  Outlook,  vol.  99,  pp.  283-7. 

17  Democracy  in  America,  vol.  2,  bk.  4,  ch.  7. 

is  "Nature's  Way,"  Harper's  Magazine,  July,  1904. 


248  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

Cooley  19  finds  encouragement  and  a  key  to  this  per- 
plexity in  the  distinction  that  there  are  two  different  kinds 
of  individuality,  one  produced  by  isolation,  and  the  other 
produced  by  choice.  The  new  communication  fosters  the 
latter  and  effaces  the  former.  Modern  conditions  of  com- 
munication are  conducive  to  rational  and  free  living, 
rather  than  of  mere  local  and  accidental  existence.  They 
enlarge  and  intensify  the  competition  of  ideas,  so  that 


8t.  Nicholas,  Jan.,  1914. 

FIG.  31. — Wireless  station  at  Cape  Cod 

the  selective  process  is  speeded  up,  and  whatever  persists 
because  it  has  never  been  tested,  is  likely  to  go,  whereas 
that  which  is  endowed  with  elements  of  universal  truth, 
is  sure  to  survive  and  be  increased.  Any  one  who  has 
penetrated  into  remote  mountain  communities  is  im- 
pressed with  the  local  flavor  of  conversation  and  fashion 
of  dress;  and  all  persons  who  have  spent  a  portion  of 
their  lives  in  great  metropolitan  centers  where  the  modern 
mechanism  of  communication  is  most  highly  developed, 

is  Op.  cit.,  pp.  93-4. 


THE  KEVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     249 

have  observed  the  uniformity  of  style  and  the  tendency 
of  individuals  with  like  interests,  although  separated  by 
many  miles  of  street,  to  get  together  in  congenial  clubs 
and  groups.  It  would  therefore  seem  that  Professor 
Cooley's  distinction  is  an  adequate  explanation  of  the 
situation. 

This  sociologist  predicts  the  likelihood  of  diminution  in 
local  peculiarities  of  speech  and  manner,  and  in  other 
curious  and  involuntary  evidences  of  individuality.  The 
example  that  suggests  itself  is  the  gradual  disappearance 
of  those  diversities  in  dress,  language,  and  culture  which 
were  developed  in  Europe  during  medieval  times.  It  is 
hardly  possible  that  we  shall  ever  see  the  development  of 
small  isolated  communities  with  peculiar  traditions,  like 
the  little  baronies  that  formerly  developed  in  the  midst 
of  large  populations.  It  is  improbable  that  modern  cities 
will  ever  evolve  the  sort  of  architectural  individuality  we 
find  in  Italy,  where  each  village  was  built  as  a  distinct 
political  and  social  unit.  This  will  mean  a  loss  of  local 
color  and  of  picturesque  social  types. 

But  compensation  will  be  found  in  the  creation  of  a 
more  vital  individuality.  Special  groups  who  cultivate 
peculiar  phases  of  knowledge,  art,  conduct,  or  of  any  hu- 
man interest,  are  already  on  the  increase,  and  will  prob- 
ably become  more  numerous.  Cooley  believes  that  we 
will  have  uniformity  only  in  those  matters  wherein  con- 
formity is  cheap  and  convenient,  but  that  in  all  activities 
wherein  men  care  to  assert  themselves,  to  put  themselves 
into  their  work,  something  distinctive  will  be  produced. 
Thus  the  vital  individuality  of  special  interest  displaces 
the  accidental  individuality  of  isolation. 

Dr.  Delos  F.  Wilcox,  an  authority  on  municipal  prob- 
lems, in  recognizing  that  modern  means  of  transportation 


250 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 


and  communication  are  reorganizing  society  according  to 
interests  rather  than  according  to  place,20  notes  that  the 
principles  of  this  reorganization  run  counter  to  political 
forms  and  habits.  Our  one-time  practical  interest  in  lo- 
cal institutions  has  suffered  a  good  deal  by  the  develop- 
ment of  railways,  steamships,  telegraphs,  and  telephones, 
which  have  given  men  a  certain  obvious,  although  in  some 
respects  a  quite  superficial  independence  of  locality. 


FIG    32. — Telephone  central  exchange 

Business  interests  and  modern  concentrated  industrial 
organization  lead  men  to  work  in  offices,  stores,  or  fac- 
tories located  in  one  part  of  the  city,  and  dwell  in  houses, 
apartments,  or  tenements  in  a  distant  section,  or  even  a 
suburb.  In  such  cases  "political  boundary  lines  are  prac- 
tically powerless,  and  men  readily  abandon  their  citizen- 
ship in  ward,  city,  or  even  commonwealth,  at  the  dictation 
of  non-political  interests." 

20  The  American  City,  1911,  pp.  6-7. 


THE  EEVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     251 

It  is  common  among  business  and  professional  classes 
for  a  man's  friends  and  business  associates  to  be  scat- 
tered over  the  whole  city,  while  he  rarely  knows  his  next 
door  neighbor's  face  or  name.  Since  the  majority  of  city 
men  carry  on  their  day 's  work  away  from  their  dwelling, 
the  only  time  left  to  spend  with  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren is  in  the  evenings  and  on  Sundays.  Thus  it  happens 
that  there  is  another  strong  motive  to  keep  men  from 
going  down  town  after  the  evening  meal.21 

Yet  in  spite  of  these  obstacles  to  the  exercise  of  democ- 
racy based  on  locality,  the  city  really  emphasizes  locality, 
and  provides  unusual  opportunity  for  collective  action 
and  cooperation.  It  is  possible  for  people  to  gather  in 
mass-meetings  at  short  notice.  The  press  furnishes  a 
medium  for  the  immediate  expression  of  public  opinion. 
Officials  can  be  made  to  feel  the  weight  of  personal  pres- 
sure without  delay.  The  fault  seems  to  be  that  the  nat- 
ural primary  units  of  local  democratic  organization — the 
home  and  the  neighborhood — have  been  weakened  and  in 
many  cases  almost  destroyed  by  the  increased  facility  of 
transportation  and  communication.  Yet  the  new  commu- 
nication contains  within  itself  the  remedy  for  these  tem- 
porary evils  occasioned  by  the  movement  towards  central- 
ization. Public  opinion  has  been  aroused  against  the 
evils  of  decayed  neighborhood  life  and  the  isolation  of 
the  home  from  civic  affairs  by  means  of  magazine  articles, 
novels,  sociological  books,  press  stories,  ''movies,"  photo- 
graphs, and  the  movement  for  equal  suffrage. 

Professor  Eoss  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  public 
mind  is  more  open  and  responsive  to  readable  accounts 
of  contemporary  oppression  or  political  corruption  than 
ever  before.  This  comes  about  because  competition  of 

21  Ibid.,  p.  234. 


252  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ideas  has  thrust  out  much  gossip  and  trashy  fiction,  and  so 
made  room  for  a  presentation  of  things  as  they  are.  Of- 
ten this  is  more  enthralling  than  fiction,  and  yet  is  quite 
true.  The  "muck-rakers,"  despite  their  sensationalism, 
have  roused  the  public  to  a  realization  of  contemporary 
wrongs  and  abuses.  The  spread  of  social  enlightenment 
has  been  followed  by  active  efforts  to  remedy  social  evils. 
An  aroused  public  has  turned  the  new  instruments  of  in- 
telligence to  account  in  a  very  practical  way,  and  has 
thrown  the  search-light  of  social  inquiry  upon  dark  prac- 
tices in  convict  camps,  mill  centers,  coal  fields,  and  copper 
districts.22 

The  perfected  mechanism  of  the  new  communication 
lies  ready  to  our  hand,  if  we  will  but  invoke  its  power  of 
expression  and  diffusion  in  favor  of  those  legitimate  and 
local  democratic  interests  which  have  suffered  inciden- 
tally in  the  evolution  towards  higher  centralization.  A 
wider  use  of  the  school  plant  in  every  neighborhood,  the 
introduction  into  the  common  school  of  the  modern  inven- 
tions of  communication,  and  a  more  liberal  education  in 
every-day  interests,  suggest  themselves  as  possible  rem- 
edies for  the  loss  of  neighborhood  autonomy. 

Thomas  Edison  is  one  of  the  first  creators  of  the  new 
communication  to  make  a  systematic  effort  to  realize 
its  promise  for  education.  As  now  organized,  common 
school  education  is  quite  as  likely  to  repel  and  discourage 
the  pupil  as  to  stimulate  his  curiosity  for  learning.  Mr. 
Edison  brings  movement  into  the  field  of  formal  educa- 
tion by  introducing  the  motion-picture.  As  early  as  1912, 
he  had  worked  out  between  seven  hundred  and  a  thousand 
subjects  for  scenarios,  each  prepared  by  a  specialist.  He 

22  "Free  Communication  and  the  Struggle  for  Right,"  Pub.  Amer  Socio- 
logical Society,  vol.  9,  p.  2,  Dec.  28,  1914. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     253 

claims  that  he  is  ready  to  elucidate  by  motion-picture  such 
subjects  as  bacteriology,  astronomy,  botany,  chemistry, 
entomology,  zoology,  forestry,  geography,  geology,  horti- 
culture, history,  mechanics  and  mechanism,  physics,  and 
the  technique  of  industrial  arts  and  trades.  Mr.  Edison 
says  that  the  time  to  make  good  moral  citizens  out  of 


FIG.  33. — Representation  of  spirit  forms  by  Movies 

children  is  between  eleven  and  twelve  years  of  age,  when 
they  are  interested  to  learn  about  everything.  With  their 
mind  awake  and  eager  to  gain  knowledge,  you  can  mold 
them  any  way  you  please.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
wait  till  they  are  fifteen  years  old,  it  is  too  late,  for  their 
habits  are  set.  He  believes,  therefore,  that  education 


254  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

by  " movies"  has  great  promise,  if  it  can  begin  at  a  rela- 
tively early  age. 

But  the  introduction  of  the  motion-picture  as  a  new 
educational  device  is  not  without  its  dangers.  Democ- 
racy is  successful  both  as  it  is  the  political  expression  of 
people  who  think  for  themselves,  and  the  means  of  edu- 
cating individuals  in  the  same  habit.  Mere  seeing  is  not 
necessarily  knowing  and  understanding,  and  our  use  of 
the  motion-picture  for  elucidating  difficult  points  must  not 
blind  us  to  this  fact.  The  only  sort  of  education  that 
counts  is  the  kind  that  trains  the  individual  to  think  for 
himself,  clearly,  independently,  and  critically.  There  is 
already  far  too  much  of  the  sort  of  education  that  con- 
sists in  ladling  out  information.  The  motion-picture  in 
education  should  avoid  the  danger  of  merely  presenting 
predigested  information  poured  into  a  receptive  mind. 
Yet  according  to  Dr.  Leonard  P.  Ayres,23  the  dangers  of 
the  motion-picture  as  an  educational  tool,  although  real, 
are  not  necessarily  inherent  or  unavoidable,  because  they 
can  go  beyond  the  mere  imparting  of  facts,  and  be  em- 
ployed to  organize,  illustrate,  clarify,  and  summarize 
knowledge  which  children  have  acquired  by  their  own 
effort  under  intelligent  guidance. 

Aside  from  its  uses  in  formal  education,  the  motion- 
picture  exerts  considerable  educational  influence  over  its 
audience.  But  since  the  film  is  vastly  more  appealing 
and  rousing  in  its  effect  than  the  printed  word  can  be, 
and  since  it  reaches  and  excites  the  non-reading  classes, 
illiterates,  and  children,  it  has  become  necessary  to  exer- 
cise over  motion-pictures  a  censorship  which  has  been 
abandoned  as  regards  the  printed  word.  The  National 

23  "Edison  vs.  Euclid,  a  Moving  Stairway  to  Learning,  with  a  Sympo- 
sium," Survey,  vol.  30,  p.  687. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     255 

Board  of  Censorship,  a  voluntary  unpaid  body  composed 
of  representatives  of  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 


By  permission  of  the  "American  Quarterly  of  Roentgenology." 
FIG.  34. — Motion-picture  of  the  stomach  digesting  food 

tions,  charity  societies,  children's  aid  associations, 
churches,  social  settlements,  women's  clubs  and  similar 
organizations,  works  in  cooperation  with  certain  film  pro- 


256  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

ducers  to  maintain  standards  of  decency,  and  to  exclude 
from  the  screen,  examples  of  immorality,  vulgarity,  and 
violence.24  There  are  over  three  hundred  and  fifty  or- 
ganizations and  individuals  in  active  cooperation  with  the 
national  board,  who  bring  pressure  to  bear  against  pro- 
prietors that  show  condemned  films.  In  1913,  the  board 
condemned  fifty-three  film  subjects,  and  eliminated  parts 
from  401  others.  It  is  estimated  that  ninety-five  per  cent, 
of  the  film  industry  is  covered  by  this  censorship  and  by 
the  bulletin  which  goes  to  four  hundred  cities. 

The  new  communication  is,  then,  not  in  danger  of  reduc- 
ing us  all  to  a  dead  level  of  uniformity  in  thought  and 
aspiration,  since  it  encourages  an  individuality  based  on 
choice,  rather  than  an  accidental  individuality  that  results 
from  isolation.  Yet  just  because  it  magnifies  the  impor- 
tance of  choice,  and  multiplies  the  occasions  for  the  exer- 
cise of  rational  selection  beyond  anything  before  experi- 
enced in  the  history  of  human  society,  it  adds  the  element 
of  mental  strain.  In  this  new  social  order,  it  costs  the 
individual  more  by  way  of  brain-work  to  live,  than  it  did 
in  the  old  order.  He  has  a  broader  outlook,  which  means 
that  he  must  think  about  a  wider  range  of  matters ;  he  is 
required  also  to  have  a  more  thorough  mastery  of  his  par- 
ticular specialty.25 

Nordau  finds  in  this  greater  complexity  of  modern  life, 
with  its  inevitable  wear  and  tear  of  nerve  material,  a 
cause  of  degeneration.  It  appears  probable  that  the 
prime  minister  of  a  petty,  or  second-rate  state  of  a  cen- 
tury ago,  had  a  more  limited  geographical  horizon  and 
less  extensive  intellectual  interests  than  the  average  vil- 

24  The  Survey,  vol.  26,  pp.  469-70;  vol.  32,  pp.  337-8;  and  Review  of  Re- 
views, vol.  50,  p.  730. 

25  Cooley,  op.  cit.,  p.  98. 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     257 

lage  inhabitant  of  to-day.  The  average  "drummer" 
travels  more,  and  sees  more  towns  and  cities,  than  did  the 
reigning  prince  of  earlier  times.  A  petty  tradesman,  or 
a  cook  send  and  receive  more  letters  than  the  average 
university  professor  did  formerly.  No  matter  how  sim- 
ple these  activities  are,  every  one  of  them  involves  an 
effort  of  the  nervous  system,  and  a  wearing  out  of  tissue. 
Our  sensory  nerves  and  brain  centers  are  set  in  ceaseless 
activity  by  the  countless  stimuli  that  pour  in  upon  our 
minds  with  every  conversation,  every  scene  perceived 
through  the  window  of  a  street-car  or  a  railway  train, 
and  every  ring  of  the  door-bell  or  telephone.  There  are 
many  little  shocks  of  railway  and  street-car  travel,  often 
unperceived  by  consciousness  but  which,  combined  with 
the  perpetual  undercurrent  of  noise  in  a  large  town  and 
with  our  constant  state  of  suspense  pending  the  occur- 
rence of  progressing  events,  increase  the  volume  of  stim- 
uli that  costs  our  brain  the  wear  and  tear  of  effort  at  con- 
tinual attention.  Nordau  further  maintains  that  in  fifty 
years  the  sum  of  a  man's  labors  has  increased  tenfold, 
while  population  has  not  doubled,  and  that  every  civilized 
man  now  furnishes  as  much  work  as  twenty-five  men  did 
half  a  century  ago.26 

Thus  the  very  volume  and  complexity  of  intellectual 
stimuli  that  falls  upon  the  individual  mind  from  all  quar- 
ters, produce  strain  as  the  price  of  sustained  animation, 
and  superficiality  as  the  cost  of  versatility.  We  may  be 
becoming  broad-minded,  but  it  is  at  some  expense  to 
truth  and  depth.  Cooley  points  out  that  as  there  is  an 
increase  in  self-consciousness  and  choice,  there  is  a  cor- 
responding increase  in  the  burden  put  upon  intelligence, 
because  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  will  have  been 

26  Degeneration,  p.  39. 


SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

vastly  multiplied,  and  the  responsibilities  of  character 
have  become  more  complex.  If  the  individual  is  to  avoid 
being  swamped  by  the  flood  of  urgent  suggestions  that 
pour  in  upon  him,  he  must  constantly  make  choices  and 
decisions. 


FIG.  35. — Representation    of   "Twenty    Thousand    Leagues    Under 
the  Sea,"  by  movies 

We  discover,  therefore,  from  an  analysis  of  the  char- 
acter and  effects  of  the  new  communication,  that  it  holds 
forth  both  promise  of  good  and  evil.  The  same  charac- 
teristics that  have  made  modern  communication  the  de- 
vice for  the  spread  of  democracy — its  great  dispersive 


THE  REVOLUTION  IN  COMMUNICATION     259 

power  from  central  sources  of  information — make  it 
amenable  to  centralized  control  by  arbitrary  interests. 
Mr.  George  W.  Perkins  has  said : 

Did  any  man  in  this  room  ever  hear  of  a  political  leader,  or  a 
so-called  statesman,  delivering  a  speech  in  a  state  legislature 
or  the  National  Congress,  calling  the  attention  of  the  people  to 
the  mighty  changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the  methods  of 
intercommunication  during  the  past  twenty  years  and  pointing 
out  that,  as  intercommunication  is  the  first  requisite  for  doing 
business,  these  mighty  changes  are  entirely  responsible  for  the 
centralization  of  business? 

On  the  contrary,  speech  after  speech  has  been  made,  harang- 
uing our  people  with  the  grossly  misleading  statement  that  the 
trusts  exist  because  of  the  tariff  and  the  greed  and  avarice  of 
a  small  group  of  men.  A  more  pernicious  and  misleading  state- 
ment has  never  been  thrust  on  the  attention  of  our  people.  .  .  . 
The  tariff  never  made  a  trust,  and  free  trade  never  will  destroy 
one.  It  requires  only  a  little  serious,  intelligent  thought  to 
reach  the  inevitable  conclusion  that,  if  we  were  given  free  trade 
in  this  country  to-morrow,  not  a  single  so-called  trust  would 
dissolve;  on  the  other  hand,  even  though  our  tariff  were  put  as 
high  as  the  mountains,  if  that  strange  force  that  we  call  elec- 
tricity were  suddenly  withdrawn  from  our  use,  and  the  telephone 
and  the  telegraph  went  out  of  existence,  not  a  single  so-called 
trust  could  continue  for  twenty-four  hours.  In  all  the  hours 
and  years  of  debate  on  the  question  of  corporations  and  big 
business  I  doubt  if  a  single  speech  has  ever  been  made,  calling 
attention  to  the  great  fundamental  fact  that  a  volcanic  upheaval 
has  taken  place  in  methods  of  intercommunication;  that  the  ox- 
team,  the  stage-coach,  the  sailing  vessel  and  the  horse  or  car 
have  been  buried  deep  in  the  ashes  of  the  past,  and  in  their 
place  have  arisen  steam,  electricity,  and  the  wireless.  While 
this  great  change  has  come  suddenly,  it  has  come  so  naturally 
that  we  have  scarcely  stopped  to  realize  that  it  has  shaken  the 
very  foundations  of  our  economics;  for  with  the  disappearance 
of  old  methods  of  intercommunication  has  disappeared  the  old 


260  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

school  of  economics,  and  with  the  advent  of  new  methods  of 
intercommunication  has  arisen  a  new  school  of  economics.27  .  .  . 

The  remarkably  complete  military  censorship  during 
the  Great  War  is  an  example  of  this  control.  Even  in 
peaceful  times,  the  obscurity  which  covers  dissemination 
of  news  by  the  Associated  Press  brings  irresponsibility 
and  distress.  Yet  the  tremendous  power  of  enlighten- 
ment possessed  by  this  new  tool  supplies  the  self -regu- 
latory element  needed  to  correct  its  abuse  by  selfish  inter- 
ests. It  may  take  some  time  for  a  proper  equilibrium  to 
be  reached,  but  the  powerful  impetus  given  by  modern 
communication  to  the  whole  educational  process  is  the 
bright  promise  of  the  future. 

27  "The  Outlook  for  Prosperity ;  Economics  New  Versus  Economics  Old," 
address  before  Economic  Club  of  New  York,  Feb.  10,  1915.  (Italics  intro- 
duced by  the  author.) 


PART  V.    THE  TRANSITION  FROM  RE- 
MEDIAL  TO  CONSTRUCTIVE 
CHARITY  AND  PREVEN- 
TIVE PHILANTHROPY 


CHAPTER  XVII 


THE  Roman  attitude  towards  charity  is  best  expressed 
by  the  words  liber dlitas,  beneficentia,  and  pietas.  The 
first  two  terms  emphasize  the  mood  of  the  free  and  inde- 
pendent giver,  as  well  as  the  deed  and  its  purpose,  while 
the  last  introduces  the  religious  notes  of  piety  and  pity.1 
Contrasted -with  this  attitude  towards  charity  is  the  the- 
ory of  medieval  times,  represented  by  three  lines  of 
thought.  St.  Bernard  (1091-1153)  helped  to  shape  the 
idea  that  poverty  was  not  as  much  a  social  state  as  a  spir- 
itual one.  Thus,  the  poor  were  those  who  had  taken  vows 
of  poverty.  This  doctrine  invigorated  the  monastic 
movement  and  tended  to  make  the  monastery  the  center 
of  charitable  relief.  St.  Francis  (1182-1226)  revived  the 
conception  of  charity  as  an  ideal  of  personal  service  which 
should  lead  men  to  live  among  the  poor  and  share  their 
privations  and  misfortunes.  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  (1225- 
1274)  associated  charity  with  definite  groups  of  good 
works,  and  thus  established  the  basis  in  popular  thought 
for  the  stereotyped  form  of  aid  which  made  the  giver 
over-conscious  of  ultimate  reward  accruing  to  himself  in 
an  after-life.  This  last  doctrine  destroyed  the  simplicity 
and  spontaneity  of  the  deed,  and  falsifying  it  at  the  outset, 
gave  charity  the  stamp  of  * '  otherworldliness. ' ' 

iLock,  op.  cit.,  pp.  80-81. 

263 


264  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

MEDIEVAL,  CHARITY 

Transition  from  the  public  relief  of  Kome  to  the  mon- 
astery as  a  center  of  charitable  aid  was  accomplished  by 
various  stages.  To  mention  merely  one  in  passing,  it  is 
sufficient  to  cite  the  establishment  of  the  " church  fund" 
during  the  second  century.  This  fund  was  supported  by 
voluntary  gifts,  and  was  used  to  assist  the  poor,  provide 
burial,  help  destitute  and  orphaned  children,  and  relieve 
other  dependents.  Around  this  charitable  center,  the 
parochial  system  developed.2 

Throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  ecclesiastical  theory  re- 
garded the  collection  of  sums  of  money  for  the  relief  of 
poor  members  as  the  primary  obligation  of  those  who  ad- 
ministered church  property.  In  the  sixth  century,  it  was 
customary  to  divide  the  revenues  of  the  Church  into  four 
portions,  one  for  the  bishop,  one  for  the  rest  of  the  clergy, 
one  for  the  maintenance  of  the  church  fabric,  and  one 
for  the  poor.3  Originally  in  the  hands  of  the  bishop, 
church  revenues  were  eventually  allotted  to  the  several 
parishes.  It  was  only  one  more  step  to  assign  to  parish 
priests  the  duty  of  relieving  the  poor.  This  reorganiza- 
tion of  the  ecclesiastical  system,  originating  first  on  the 
Continent,  was  copied  by  English  lawmakers  in  the  eighth 
century. 

When  the  parochial  system  of  relief  gave  way,  monas- 
teries, gilds,  and  private  almsgiving  continued  the  work  of 
aiding  the  poor.  After  the  twelfth  century,  the  use  of  the 
tithe  appears  to  have  ceased  as  an  element  in  charity. 
The  almsgiving  of  church  dignitaries  assumed  the  aspect 

2  Ibid.,  p.  211. 

3  Ulhorn,  Christian  Charity  in  the  Early  Church,  1883,  p.  266 ;  and  Ash- 
ley, vol.  II,  op.  cit.,  p.  307. 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  265 

of  "gracious  outpouring  of  their  own  charity,"  rather 
than  ecclesiastical  obligation.  Such  parochial  poor-relief 
as  did  exist  at  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages  appears  to 
have  been  furnished  from  a  sort  of  " church  fund." 

The  monasteries  carried  on  the  work  that  the  parochial 
clergy  did  not  perform.  Without  organization  or  any 
centralized  system  of  poor-relief,  the  alms  given  by  every 
monastery  was  entirely  without  relation  to  any  other; 
consequently  aid  was  given  to  all  strangers  who  chose  to 
apply,  as  well  as  to  cases  of  local  need.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances relief  was  indiscriminate,  and  soon  a  profes- 
sional beggary  grew  up  and  overran  the  land.  The  pau- 
perizing effect  of  such  almsgiving  was  due  more  to  lack 
of  unity  in  the  administration  of  poor-relief  than  to 
church  doctrine  encouraging  indiscriminate  giving.  In 
fact,  Basil  cautioned  against  giving  without  distinction  to 
every  beggar  that  asks.  But  this  wise  counsel,  as  well 
as  that  of  others,  appears  to  have  passed  unheeded. 

Each  monastery  was  a  center  of  relief,  with  its  almonry 
usually  near  the  church  of  the  monastery.  The  almoner 's 
duty  was  to  give  alms  to  the  needy,  and  to  aid  with  es- 
pecial liberality  travelers,  palmers,  chaplains,  mendicants 
(professional  beggars),  and  the  leprous  (the  sick).  Out- 
door relief  was  given  to  the  old  and  infirm  and  to  the  lame 
and  the  blind  who  were  confined  to  their  beds.  Rooms 
for  the  sick  were  frequently  provided  in  the  almonry. 
The  almoner  distributed  to  widows,  orphans,  and  poor 
clerks,  the  remnants  of  meals,  and  the  old  clothes  of  the 
monks.  He  was  thus  a  local  visitor,  as  well  as  the  agent 
who  provided  indoor  relief  for  the  sick.  Ashley  says  of 
this  method  of  poor  relief : 

There  are,  .  .  .  very  strong  reasons  for  believing  that,  for  a 
couple  of  centuries  at  least  before  the  Reformation,  the  English 


266  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

monasteries  had  done  little  for  the  relief  of  honest  poverty; 
and  that  their  almsgiving  tended  rather  to  foster  the  growth  of 
a  class  of  professional  beggars.4 

Besides  monasteries,  the  relief  of  distress  was  provided 
for  by  another  class  of  institutions  known  as  hospitals. 
These  were  charitable  foundations  for  the  care  of  the 
sick  and  the  sheltering  of  destitute  and  enfeebled  old  age. 
They  were  a  sort  of  a  combination  of  the  modern  hospital 
and  almshouse  in  a  primitive  stage  of  development. 
There  were  hundreds  of  these  institutions  scattered  over 
Western  Europe.  These  hospitals  were  under  the  admin- 
istrative charge  of  a  master  or  warden,  several  priests 
who  assisted  in  the  performance  of  religious  offices,  and 
a  number  of  lay  and  religious  brethren. 

For  a  time  these  foundations  did  their  work  well,  and 
grew  rich  and  powerful  from  the  continuous  stream  of 
fresh  endowments  left  by  the  wills  of  wealthy  persons. 
In  time,  however,  they  came  to  be  regarded  by  their  ad- 
ministrators as  a  source  of  income,  and  their  attendants 
wasted  their  revenues  in  idleness  and  dissipation.  Ad- 
mission of  the  sick  and  needy  was  refused,  and  the  heads 
of  these  houses  used  the  property  for  their  own  advan- 
tage. But  misappropriation  of  revenue  was  by  no  means 
the  only  abuse  to  which  these  hospitals  were  submitted. 
Scandalous  methods  of  begging  contributions  were  re- 
sorted to  by  their  agents.  Moreover,  it  was  customary 
for  the  larger  hospitals  to  offer  food  and  lodging  to  all 
applicants  irrespective  of  need  or  worthiness.  "Vaga- 
bonds who  lived  by  begging  went  'from  spital  to  spital, 
prowling  and  poaching  for  lumps  of  bread  and  meat.' 
Around  the  gates  of  Saint  Bartholomew  and  other  great 
foundations  gathered  swarms  of  the  miserably  shiftless 

*  Op.  cit.,  vol.  II,  p.  312. 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  267 

and  idle,  decrepit,  halt,  and  maimed,  covered  with  rags 
and  filth,  like  those  still  to  be  seen  around  the  entrance  to 
many  a  Continental  cathedral. ' ' 5 

Crafts  and  fraternities  furnished  relief  to  their  own 
members.  Although  many  of  the  religious  gilds  did  not 
profess  to  relieve  bodily  distress,  the  majority  of  them 
were  accustomed  to  give  occasional  aid  to  needy  members. 
Some  gilds  provided  a  weekly  pension  for  indigent  mem- 
bers sufficient  to  cover  mere  maintenance.  These  pay- 
ments were  not  considered  as  something  the  members 
could  claim  in  return  for  their  own  dues,  like  a  sick- 
benefit,  but  were  quite  frankly  regarded  as  a  form  of  alms- 
giving that  was  chiefly  valuable  from  the  point  of  view  of 
spiritual  benefit  to  the  giver,  rather  than  as  so  much  aid 
for  the  assistance  of  members  in  distress. 

As  the  industrial  and  trading  population  increased, 
craft  associations  began  to  provide  lodging  for  destitute 
members,  and  some  proceeded  to  erect  almshouses  which 
were  managed  in  much  the  same  fashion  as  the  endowed 
hospitals.  Beginning  with  the  religious  gilds,  the  prac- 
tice spread  to  the  crafts,  where  further  bequests  enabled 
these  almshouses  to  provide  for  inmates  a  regular  weekly 
allowance  in  addition  to  shelter.  In  the  case  of  smaller 
fraternities,  the  weekly  doles  appear  to  have  been  ob- 
tained by  contributions  furnished  for  each  particular  case, 
and  not  from  endowments. 

Private  charity  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  chiefly  indis- 
criminate almsgiving.  The  almsgiving  of  great  prelates 
and  nobles  assumed  such  dimensions  that  it  rivaled,  and 
sometimes  actually  exceeded  that  of  the  monasteries  and 
hospitals.  Food  was  frequently  provided  for  scores,  and 
even  hundreds  of  individuals.  Double  and  triple  doles 

B  Ashley,  pp.  323-24. 


268  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

were  dealt  out  on  festival  days.  It  was  customary  to 
distribute  doles  to  all  who  applied  at  the  gates.  While 
bequests  were  sometimes  made  by  wealthy  landlords  for 
the  benefit  of  their  poor  tenants,  and  occasionally  money 
was  left  for  the  education  of  poor  children,  or  the  mar- 
riage portion  of  a  poor  girl,  it  was  far  more  usual  to  find 
that  a  bequest  was  left  to  be  distributed  to  the  poor  with- 
out any  restriction.  Sometimes  alms  were  offered  to  all 
who  cared  to  come  for  them. 

In  making  charitable  bequests,  the  dominant  motive  was 
the  spiritual  gain  that  accrued  to  the  testator  in  the  next 
world.  It  was  thought  that  the  prayers  of  the  recipi- 
ents would  be  added  to  the  sum  of  the  benefactor's  good 
works,  thus  laying  up  for  him  a  greater  heavenly  re- 
ward. 

In  our  brief  survey  of  the  poor-relief  and  charity  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  we  have  discovered  that  the  work  was 
entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  church,  or  under  the  influence 
of  religious  motives  acting  upon  the  minds  of  individuals. 
There  was  no  attempt  by. the  church  to  organize  poor- 
relief  according  to  a  systematic  plan,  and  the  state  and 
secular  authorities  made  no  such  effort.  Almsgiving  by 
monasteries,  hospitals,  gilds,  private  persons,  and  by  ec- 
clesiastical and  lay  magnates,  was  the  form  taken  by  the 
bulk  of  poor-relief.  This  indiscriminate  distribution  of 
relief  exercised  a  pauperizing  influence,  and  rendered  it 
easy  for  shiftless  persons  to  get  a  living  without  work.  A 
horde  of  professional  beggars  was  created,  who  wan- 
dered from  place  to  place,  going  the  regular  rounds  of 
monastery,  hospital,  and  festival,  supported  year  in  and 
year  out  by  reckless  and  unintelligent  giving,  and  increas- 
ing in  numbers  and  boldness.  Meanwhile,  there  were 
hardworking  people  of  honest  habits,  and  deserving  poor, 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY      .  269 

who  found  no  assistance  because  they  were  too  proud  or 
afraid  to  go  out  with  these  shameless  vagabonds. 

THE    PERIOD    OF    REPRESSION 

The  first  step  in  governmental  interference  in  the  relief 
of  the  poor  appeared  under  the  guise  of  that  section  of 
the  first  Statute  of  Laborers  in  1349,  which  attempted  to 
prevent  vagrancy  by  repressing  it.  The  law  sought  to 
secure  an  adequate  supply  of  labor  at  the  rate  of  wages 
current  before  the  ' '  Black  Death, ' '  but  also  declared  that 
all  persons  who  gave  alms  to  * '  sturdy  beggars ' '  should  be 
punished  by  imprisonment.  It  was  expected  that  idleness 
would  cease  as  soon  as  almsgiving  to  able-bodied  beggars 
was  discontinued.  Throughout  the  fourteenth  and  fif- 
teenth centuries,  England  enacted  statutes  in  an  effort  to 
solve  the  problem  of  vagrancy  by  repression.6 

There  were  successive  enactments  in  1360,  1376,  1388, 
and  during  the  fifteenth  century.  The  dissolution  of  the 
monasteries  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII  transferred 
from  the  control  of  the  church  to  the  hands  of  the  nobles 
one  fifth  of  the  lands  of  England.  As  a  result,  many  of 
the  poorer  tenants  were  ruined  and  reduced  to  poverty, 
because  the  nobles  were  chiefly  intent  upon  quick  money- 
returns,  and  consequently  sold  off  the  farm-stock  and 
often  evicted  the  tenants.  The  suppression  of  the  monas- 
teries suddenly  brought  to  an  end  the  lavish  almsgiving 
on  which  the  class  of  professional  beggars  had  grown  to 
depend,  and  without  perhaps  actually  increasing  the  ab- 
solute amount  of  vagrancy,  immensely  aggravated  the 
seriousness  of  the  problem. 

Earlier  than  this,  however,  the  problem  of  poverty  had 
assumed  dimensions  of  gravity,  because  of  the  agrarian 

e  Nicholl,  G.,  History  of  the  English  Poor  Law,  1899. 


270  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

difficulties  connected  with  the  first  period  of  inclosures. 
It  was  the  inadequacy  of  the  ecclesiastical  system  of  poor- 
relief,  or  rather  the  lack  of  system,  in  dealing  with  this 
problem,  that  made  it  necessary  to  incorporate  into  the 
legislation  against  vagabondage  and  vagrancy  some  pro- 
vision for  the  relief  of  the  impotent  poor.7  The  Act  of 
1530  directed  justices  of  the  peace  to  license  such  impotent 
poor  as  could  go  begging,  provided  they  did  not  beg  out- 
side certain  set  limits.  If  caught  outside  these  limits, 
they  were  to  be  punished  by  imprisonment  in  stocks,  and 
by  whipping.  All  able-bodied  persons  caught  begging 
were  to  receive  punishment  by  whipping,  and  were  to  be 
returned  to  their  place  of  birth,  or  where  they  had  lived 
for  the  past  three  years.  The  punishments  for  second 
and  third  offenses  were  severe. 

Although  designed  to  check  begging  by  attempting  to 
correct  the  deficiencies  of  the  first  enactment,  the  Act  of 
1536  provided  positive  measures  for  the  relief  of  the  poor. 
The  mayor  of  every  town,  and  the  churchwardens  of  every 
parish,  were  directed  to  collect  alms  on  Sundays  and  hol- 
idays for  the  aid  of  poor,  impotent,  sick,  and  diseased 
persons.  Account  of  expenditures  must  be  kept  by  the 
parish  priest,  and  all  idle  children  over  five  years  of  age 
were  to  be  taught  husbandry  or  craftsmanship.  Able- 
bodied  men  were  to  be  set  at  work.  ' '  Sturdy  vagabonds ' ' 
were  to  receive  harsh  punishment,  and  even  put  to  death 
as  felons.  The  revenues  for  this  poor  relief  were  the  vol- 
untary gifts  of  the  people,  but  the  giving  of  private  alms 
by  individuals  was  forbidden,  and  the  punishment  was 
forfeiture  of  ten  times  the  amount  given.8 

'Ellwood,  C.  A.,  "Public  Relief  and  Private  Charity  in  England,"  The 
University  of  Missouri  Studies,  1903,  vol.  II,  no.  2,  p.  5. 
sNicholl,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I,  pp.  121-25. 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  271 

This  act  marks  a  transition  from  ecclesiastical  to  secu- 
lar poor-relief.  It  is  the  first  instance  in  which  the  state 
directed  how  funds  for  poor-relief  should  be  raised,  and 
how  they  should  be  administered.  While  secular  power 
intervened  in  this  way,  it  was  not  to  secularize  relief,  but 
rather  to  revitalize  and  organize  the  system  of  ecclesias- 
tical relief. 

In  1547,  measures  repressive  of  vagrancy  were  made 
more  cruel,  yet  the  Act  of  1551  marked  an  amelioration 
in  the  laws  relating  to  the  helpless  poor.  By  this  act  it 
was  provided  that  two  or  more  collectors  of  alms  were 
to  be  appointed  in  each  parish,  who  were  to  make  lists  of 
the  impotent,  the  feeble,  and  the  very  poor,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  admonishing  parishioners  to  contribute.  Persons 
not  contributing  according  to  their  means,  were  to  be  ex- 
horted and  reproved  by  the  bishop  of  the  diocese. 

THE  POOR-LAW   OF   ELIZABETH 

An  approach  to  a  compulsory  poor-rate  levied  by  civil 
authorities  was  made  early  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  In 
1562,  it  was  enacted  that  bishops  should  bind  over  all  who 
refused  to  pay  the  amounts  assessed  by  parish  collectors 
to  appear  before  justices  empowered  to  assess  them  such 
sums  as  they  thought  reasonable. 

By  a  gradual  process  of  successive  enactment,  the  whole 
system  of  poor-relief,  which  had  worked  so  badly  under 
church  control,  was  transferred  to  civil  authorities.  The 
Act  of  1572  provided  for  parish  collectors  and  overseers 
of  the  poor,  who  should  tax  inhabitants  for  support  of  the 
poor.  In  1576,  stocks  of  raw  materials  were  kept  in  each 
town  to  provide  work  for  the  poor.  Able-bodied  persons 
who  refused  to  work  were  sent  to  the  house  of  correction. 
Among  other  enactments,  that  of  1597  stands  out  as  char- 


272  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

acteristic  of  the  new  spirit  in  the  administration  of  poor- 
relief.  Overseers  of  the  poor  were  appointed  in  each  par- 
ish to  assume  charge  of  relief,  as  well  as  to  raise  by  taxa- 
tion whatever  amount  of  money  was  necessary  to  pur- 
chase material  for  labor,  and  to  provide  relief. 

All  the  essential  principles  of  the  Act  of  1597,  as  well 
as  the  machinery  for  administering  relief  worked  out  in 
the  experience  of  the  past  generation,  were  incorporated 
in  the  famous  Statute  of  1601,  the  so-called  "Poor  Law 
of  Elizabeth. ' '  The  admirable  characteristics  of  this  law 
may  be  traced  to  the  fact  that  it  was  the  culmination  of 
long  experience,  and  therefore  inevitably  rested  upon 
certain  principles  of  universal  validity. 

By  this  law,  recipients  of  poor  relief  were  divided  into 
three  classes :  able-bodied  persons,  those  unable  to  work, 
and  children.  Work  was  to  be  provided  for  the  first  class 
upon  such  raw  materials  as  flax,  .hemp,  wool,  iron,  and 
other  materials  to  be  supplied  by  overseers  of  the  poor. 
If  any  able-bodied  person  refused  to  work,  he  was  to  be 
punished  by  being  put  in  stocks,  or  by  imprisonment. 
Overseers  were  directed  to  provide  necessary  relief  for 
those  unable  to  work.  For  this  purpose,  maintenance  in 
almshouses  was  commended.  Emphasis  was  laid  upon 
the  responsibility  of  those  near  of  kin ;  consequently  chil- 
dren, parents,  and  grandparents  were  made  liable  for  the 
support  of  relatives  unable  to  work.  For  the  third  class, 
dependent  children,  provision  was  to  be  made  for  their 
apprenticeship  in  some  craft — boys  till  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  and  girls  till  the  age  of  twenty-one,  or  until  married. 

Overseers  were  directed  to  levy  a  tax  to  raise  the  funds 
required  for  this  poor-relief.  These  taxes  were  to  be  col- 
lected weekly,  or  otherwise,  and  were  levied  chiefly  upon 
the  occupiers  of  real  estate.  When  a  poor  parish  was 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  273 

overburdened  by  its  rate,  aid  was  to  be  secured  from  other 
parishes  in  the  ''hundred,"  or  county.9 

The  parish  still  remained  the  unit  of  poor-relief  admin- 
istration, for  justices  of  the  peace  were  directed  to  nomin- 
ate in  Easter  week  two  or  more  overseers  of  the  poor,  to 
assume  charge  of  the  administration.  Justices  of  the 
peace  were  vested  with  powers  of  supervision. 

In  spite  of  the  admirable  principles  of  the  poor-law,  in 
practice  its  operation  was  not  satisfactory.  One  diffi- 
culty appears  to  have  been  that  overseers  of  the  poor  ne- 
glected their  duty  to  provide  stocks  of  raw  materials  and 
work  for  able-bodied  persons.  The  training  of  children 
by  apprenticeship  in  certain  crafts  led  to  their  ill-treat- 
ment, and  the  plan  of  providing  relief  from  the  rates  led 
to  considerable  abuses.  That  clause  of  the  law  which 
secured  assistance  for  parishes  not  rich  enough  to  main- 
tain their  own  poor  entirely,  by  supplementing  these  rates 
from  the  rest  of  the  " hundred,"  was  abused  by  convert- 
ing it  into  an  instrument  whereby  unscrupulous  employ- 
ers reduced  wages  in  their  own  parish  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  this  * '  rate  in  aid. ' ' 10 

THE  REFORM   OF  THE  POOR-LAW 

In  spite  of  these  shortcomings,  the  Elizabethan  Poor- 
Law  continued  in  operation  as  the  basis  of  English  poor- 
relief  for  several  centuries.  But  between  1601  and  the 
Poor- Law  Amendment,  or  reform  of  1834,  the  state  con- 
tinued legislative  experiments  in  the  field  of  poor-relief. 
The  history  of  this  experimentation  may  be  conveniently 
divided  into  three  parts :  the  period  1660  to  1760,  charac- 
terized by  heavy  poor-rates  and  settlement  laws  of  more 

»  Lonsdale,  S.,  The  English  Poor  Laws,  London,  1901. 
10  Gibbins,  op.  cit.,  pp.  261-63. 


274  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

or  less  severity ;  the  period  1760  to  1800,  marked  by  lower 
poor-rates  and  a  change  in  the  spirit  of  poor-relief ;  and 
the  period  1800  to  1834,  or  that  of  oppressive  rates  and 
increasing  demoralization. 

The  Settlement  Act  of  1662  restricted  the  obligation  of 
the  parish  to  relieve  destitution  to  persons  who  had  legal 
settlement  within  its  borders.  Legal  domicile,  or  settle- 
ment, was  acquired  by  birth,  proprietorship,  sojourn, 
service,  or  apprenticeship.  Upon  complaint  of  the  over- 
seers, justices  might  order  a  person  who  had  lived  forty 
days  or  less  within  a  parish  to  remove  to  his  own  place 
of  settlement.  It  was  expected  that  this  act  would  re- 
move from  parishes  the  burden  of  those  who  were  already 
dependent  or  likely  to  become  so,  and  put  responsibility 
where  it  belonged — upon  the  community  where  the  indi- 
gent person  had  settlement.  But  the  effect  was  to  de- 
stroy the  mobility  of  labor  and  bind  the  working  classes 
to  the  soil.  The  act  was  used  by  poor  and  rich  parishes 
alike  in  the  selfish  endeavor  to  prevent  an  influx  of  poor 
from  other  parishes.  These  vicious  practices  checked 
the  natural  mobility  of  labor,  industry  consequently  de- 
clined, and  impoverished  by  lack  of  employment,  the  la- 
boring classes  became  more  and  more  a  heavy  charge  upon 
the  poor-rates.  Instead  of  correcting  these  abuses,  sub- 
sequent legislation  made  the  acquisition  of  settlement 
even  more  difficult,  and  thus  aggravated  the  problem. 
Substantial  amelioration  of  these  harsh  and  unwise  settle- 
ment restrictions  did  not  come  until  1795,  when  it  was  en- 
acted that  expulsion  from  a  parish  could  not  be  made 
unless  the  person  concerned  was  actually  dependent,  not 
merely  a  possible  future  dependent. 

Since  overseers  of  the  poor  had  often  been  careless  in 
their  administration  of  funds,  and  had  abused  their  pow- 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  275 

ers,  it  was  provided  in  1791  that  supreme  power  in  relief 
administration  should  be  vested  in  justices.  This  act  re- 
quired a  careful  registration  of  all  paupers  in  each  parish, 
a  certain  degree  of  publicity  with  reference  to  the  amount 
of  relief  given,  and  ordered  that  no  name  should  be  added 
to  this  list  except  by  authority  of  the  justices.  Instead  of 
improving  the  administration  of  poor  relief,  this  act  had 
the  opposite  effect,  and  made  the  system  more  lax  than 
ever. 

Increase  of  expenditure  encouraged  people  to  look  for 
a  more  economical  method  of  caring  for  the  poor.  Hence 
the  idea  of  building  poorhouses  became  popular.  It  was 
thought  that  paupers  could  be  put  at  remunerative  work 
and  thus  contribute  to  their  support.  By  an  act  of  Par- 
liament, a  workhouse  was  erected  at  Bristol  in  1697. 
Other  places  followed  this  example  until,  in  1722,  it  was 
enacted  that  parishes  might  combine  into  unions  of  two  or 
more,  or  might  singly  erect,  buy,  or  rent  workhouses.  A 
"work  test"  was  provided  by  the  ruling  that  "no  poor 
who  refused  to  be  lodged  and  kept  in  such  houses  should 
be  entitled  to  ask  for  parochial  relief."  Wherever 
adopted,  the  system  caused  an  immediate  decrease  in 
the  expenditure  for  poor-relief.  Unfortunately,  another 
provision  of  this  act  authorized  parishes  to  '  *  farm  out ' ' 
their  poor  by  permitting  them  to  contract  with  persons  for 
the  lodging,  maintenance,  and  employment  of  the  poor. 
Grave  abuses  resulted.  The  helpless  inmates  of  these 
poorhouses  and  workhouses  were  cruelly  treated  by  in- 
human contractors. 

The  farming  out  of  the  poor  was  abolished  by  Gilbert's 
Act  of  1782.  Adjacent  parishes  were  given  the  right  to 
unify  their  administration  of  relief,  as  well  as  to  unite  for 
a  common  poorhouse.  Indoor  and  outdoor  relief  was  to 


276  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

be  administered  by  paid  * '  guardians ' '  who  were  appointed 
by  justices.  The  duties  of  overseers  were  reduced  to  the 
mere  assessment  and  collection  of  funds.  Visitors  were 
also  to  be  appointed  by  the  justices,  and,  in  association 
with  these  honorary  officials,  justices  exercised  supervi- 
sion over  the  administration  of  poor-relief.  But  since  the 
adoption  of  this  system  was  optional  and  not  mandatory, 
the  reforms  did  not  become  widespread. 

An  unfortunate  departure  from  sound  principles  was 
contained  in  Gilbert's  Act  by  the  stipulation  that  while 
only  the  old  and  infirm  poor,  mothers  of  illegitimate  chil- 
dren, and  children  too  young  to  work,  should  be  main- 
tained in  the  poorhouse,  guardians  should  find  work  for 
the  able-bodied  poor  near  their  own  homes  and  collect 
their  wages  for  them,  applying  the  same  towards  their 
maintenance,  and  supplementing  low  wages  by  a  subsidy 
from  the  relief  funds.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the 
vicious  allowance  system  by  which  relief  in  aid  of  low 
wages  was  granted.  This  practice  pauperized  many  of 
England's  laborers  and  demoralized  the  working  classes. 
It  reached  its  culmination  in  1795  when  the  magistrates 
of  Berkshire  established  the  custom  of  aiding  all  poor 
families  who  were  industrious,  but  whose  incomes  were 
considered  insufficient.  Relief  from  the  poor  funds  was 
made  to  such  families,  in  consideration  of  the  price  of 
wheat  and  the  size  of  the  family.11  This  example  was 
followed  by  the  whole  country,  and  Parliament  soon  legal- 
ized (1796)  outdoor  relief  to  able-bodied  persons  by  re- 
scinding the  Act  of  1722  with  its  salutary  principle  of  the 
" workhouse  test,"  and  legalizing  wage  subsidies.  Thus 
indiscriminate  relief  was  legalized,  and  the  demoraliza- 
tion of  the  laboring  classes  encouraged. 

11  Fowle,  op.  eit.,  pp.  65-6. 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  277 

Meanwhile  the  enormous  increase  of  pauperism  in  Eng- 
land, which  took  place  between  1780  and  1820,  attracted 
the  attention  of  economists.  Malthus,  who  investigated 
the  actual  conditions  at  the  time,  maintained  that  the 
principal  cause  of  this  increase  was  the  indiscriminate 
relief  of  the  poor.  Certainly  this  system  of  lavish  poor- 
relief  was  instituted  at  a  time  when  the  economic  situa- 
tion of  England's  working  classes  could  not  have  been 
less  opportune.  England  was  gradually  aroused  to  the 
menace  of  the  situation  by  the  repeated  attacks  of  her 
economists,  and  feeble  efforts  at  reform  began  to  be  made. 
Parliament  appointed  a  committee  for  the  investigation 
of  the  poor-laws  in  1817.  Although  the  report  of  this  com- 
mittee was  enlightening,  very  little  was  done  to  correct 
the  existing  abuses,  until  in  1832  a  second  royal  commis- 
sion was  appointed  to  investigate  the  practical  workings 
of  the  poor-law. 

In  1834,  this  commission  made  a  report  that  contained 
most  sensational  disclosures  of  abuses  connected  with  the 
entire  system  of  poor-relief.  An  almost  unbelievable 
state  of  corruption  existed  among  administrators  and  re- 
cipients alike.  Parliament  was  aroused,  and  passed  the 
famous  "Poor  Law  Amendment  Act."  No  new  princi- 
ples of  relief  were  advocated,  but  emphasis  was  laid  upon 
the  principle  "that  the  condition  of  the  pauper  ought  to 
be,  on  the  whole,  less  eligible  than  that  of  the  independent 
laborer. ' ' 

The  fundamental  provisions  of  this  new  law  may  be 
examined  under  three  heads : 

(1)  Administration  of  poor-relief  was  centralized  by 
the  creation  of  a  board  of  three  poor-law  commissioners 
with  extensive  powers  over  local  authorities.  This  board 
had  power  to  issue  orders  and  enforce  them.  It  exer- 


278  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

cised  supervision  over  local  administration  through  in- 
spectors who  visited  workhouses  and  investigated  com- 
plaints. It  exercised  supervision  over  finances  through 
auditors  who  examined  the  accounts  of  all  local  officials 
twice  a  year. 

(2)  The  board  was  directed  to  divide  the  country  into 
districts,  or  poor-law  unions,  to  form  the  administrative 
units  of  the  system.     Local  responsibility  was  to  be  en- 
couraged by  a  provision  that  each  union  should  have  a 
board  of  guardians,  locally  elected,  who  were  to  be  re- 
sponsible  in  the   administration   of  relief.    Boards   of 
guardians  were  to  carry  on  their  executive  work  through 
salaried  relief  officers. 

(3)  Guardians  were  required  to  erect  a  workhouse,  or 
workhouses,  for  each  union.     The  " workhouse  test"  was 
reestablished  by  directing  that  no  relief  should  be  given 
to  able-bodied  persons. 

Changes  in  the  poor-law  were  made  in  1847,  when  the 
board  of  poor-law  commissioners  was  transformed  into 
a  ministerial  department  responsible  to  Parliament ;  and 
again  in  1871,  when  the  local  government  board  was  es- 
tablished with  supervision  over  poor-relief  as  one  among 
its  many  duties.  The  powers  and  functions  of  the  central 
board  have  been  enlarged  from  time  to  time  and  the  local 
administration  of  relief  democratized  by  the  Local  Gov- 
ernment Act  of  1894.  By  this  act,  equal  franchise  in  the 
election  of  boards  of  guardians  was  granted  to  all  adult 
persons  who  resided  in  the  union  for  at  least  a  year. 
Many  women,  as  well  as  laboring  men,  have  been  elected 
guardians.  In  some  unions  there  has  been  a  consid- 
erable increase  in  outdoor  relief,  always,  however,  sub- 
ject to  the  check  of  the  central  board.12 

i2Ellwood,  op.  cit.,  pp.  19-21. 


MEDIEVAL  CHARITY  279 

In  the  belief  that  a  recasting  of  the  relief  system  might 
be  advisable,  a  public  commission  of  eighteen  members 
was  appointed  in  1908,  to  inquire  into  the  operation  of 
the  existing  law  with  special  reference  to  the  problem  of 
unemployment.  Two  elaborate  reports  were  submitted 
in  1909.  One  of  these,  that  of  the  minority,  recommended 
drastic  reforms  in  poor-relief  administration;  the  other, 
that  of  the  majority,  recommended  certain  modifications 
in  the  existing  law.  Both  reports  favored  the  abolition 
of  workhouses  where  the  able-bodied  were  gathered,  and 
both  agreed  in  recommending  that  the  existing  local 
boards  of  guardians  be  abolished,  although  there  was 
some  disagreement  as  to  what  should  be  substituted.13 

The  English  poor-law  has  never  given  much  satisfac- 
tion. Indeed,  the  majority  of  statutes  connected  with  the 
administration  of  poor-relief  have  created  new  evils  and 
aggravated  the  very  ones  which  they  were  intended  to 
prevent.  Recently,  however,  radically  new  methods  of 
dealing  with  the  vexatious  problem  of  poverty  have  been 
introduced,  and  matters  have  taken  a  more  hopeful  turn. 
But  adequate  consideration  of  modern  constructive  char- 
ity and  preventive  philanthropy  requires  separate  treat- 
ment, so  that  we  shall  deal  with  these  subjects  in  the  fol- 
lowing chapter. 

is  Webb,  S.  and  B.,  The  Break-up  of  the  Poor  Law:  being  Part  One  of  the 
Minority  Report  of  the  Poor  Law  Commission,  London,  1909;  also  The  Eng- 
lish Poor  Law  Policy,  London,  1910,  and  The  Prevention  of  Destitution, 
London  and  New  York,  1911. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


So  extensive  is  the  subject  of  modern  constructive  and 
preventive  philanthropy,  and  so  varied  are  the  experi- 
ments, that  a  thorough  treatment  of  the  entire  field  would 
consume  more  space  than  is  at  our  disposal  in  an  intro- 
ductory work  of  this  kind.  Hence,  all  that  will  be  here 
attempted  is  a  brief  outline  of  three  characteristic  sys- 
tems. 

At  one  time  men  thought  the  institution  of  slavery  an 
abiding  element  in  human  society.  Although  it  persisted 
for  centuries,  slavery  gradually  passed  away  from  civil 
society  because  it  was  incompatible  with  progress  in  in- 
dustrial and  social  organization.  The  condition  of  pov- 
erty for  great  masses  of  people  is  inconsistent  with  a 
healthy  and  well-balanced  economic  organization,  and  this 
condition,  it  is  believed,  will  also  gradually  pass  away,  in 
large  measure  at  least,  not  so  much  of  its  own  accord  as 
because  of  intelligent  efforts  to  abolish  its  causes.  Hence 
the  emphasis  on  constructive  and  preventive  methods. 

Professor  Simon  N.  Patten  has  expressed  the  following 
view: 

Our  children's  children  may  learn  with  amazement  how  we 
thought  it  a  natural  social  phenomenon  that  men  should  die  in 
their  prime,  leaving  wives  and  children  in  terror  of  want ;  that 
accidents  should  make  an  army  of  maimed  dependents;  that 
there  should  not  be  enough  houses  for  workers;  and  that  epi- 

280 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  281 

demies  should  sweep  away  multitudes  as  autumn  frost  sweeps 
away  summer  insects.  They  will  wonder  that  the  universal 
sadness  of  such  a  world  should  have  appealed  to  our  transient 
sympathies,  but  did  not  absorb  our  widest  interests.  They  will 
ask  why  there  was  some  hope  of  succor  for  those  whose  miseries 
passed  for  a  moment  before  the  eyes  of  the  tender-hearted,  but 
none  for  the  dwellers  beyond  the  narrow  horizon  within  which 
pity  moves.  And  they  will  be  unable  to  put  themselves  in  our 
places,  because  the  new  social  philosophy,  which  we  are  this 
moment  framing,  will  have  so  molded  their  minds  that  they 
cannot  return  to  the  philosophy  that  molds  ours. 

THE    HAMBTJEG-ELBERFELD    SYSTEM    OF    POOR   RELIEF 

One  of  the  earliest  constructive  efforts  at  dealing  with 
paupers  and  poverty-stricken  people  was  made  in  Ham- 
burg at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  system 
consisted  of  a  central  bureau,  with  the  city  divided  into 
districts  under  the  direction  of  overseers.  Almsgiving  at 
the  door  was  prohibited,  work  was  supplied  the  unem- 
ployed so  that  the  helpless  might  learn  to  help  themselves, 
an  industrial  school  was  provided  for  the  children,  and 
there  were  hospitals  for  the  sick.  So  complete  was  the 
provision  for  all  classes  in  need  of  assistance  or  disci- 
pline, that  the  system  worked  a  revolution  in  Hamburg. 
Beggars,  who  had  formerly  lined  the  streets  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  the  passerby,  were  either  put  at  work  or  driven 
out.  Destitute  children,  who  had  heretofore  begun  the 
struggle  of  life  under  a  terrible  handicap,  were  relieved 
and  educated  to  industry  and  self-support.  The  poverty- 
stricken  sick  were  cared  for,  or  restored  to  health.1 

The  Elberfeld  system  of  public  relief,  adopted  in  1852 
as  a  modification  of  the  Hamburg  system,  represents  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  of  the  earlier  experiments  in  con- 

i  Henderson,  C.  R.,  Modern  Methods  of  Charity,  1904,  pp.  4-14. 


282  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

structive  charity.  Its  fundamental  principles  are  a  thor- 
ough examination  of  each  individual  dependent,  con- 
tinued careful  guardianship  during  the  period  of 
dependence,  and  a  constant  effort  to  help  him  regain 
economic  independence.  In  practice,  a  large  number  of 
unpaid  citizens  are  relied  upon  to  carry  on  this  work. 

For  purposes  of  administration,  the  city  is  divided  into 
564  precincts,  each  of  which  contain  from  four  to  six  poor 
families  out  of  a  population  of  three  hundred.  A  citizen 
visitor,  or  Armenpfleger,  is  placed  in  charge  of  each  pre- 
cinct. Appointed  for  three  years  of  compulsory  service 
on  pain  of  loss  of  franchise  and  increased  taxes,  the 
Armenpfleger  is  a  responsible  person  whose  services  the 
city  may  count  upon.  The  office  is  not  limited  to  the 
wealthy  classes ;  indeed,  a  special  effort  is  made  to  secure 
tradesmen  and  mechanics.  Considerable  prestige  at- 
taches to  the  office,  which  is  considered  the  first  round  on 
the  ladder  of  municipal  honor  offices. 

Applications  for  aid  come  directly  to  the  Armenpfleger, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  inquire  carefully  into  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case.  When  he  is  convinced  that  the  family 
is  really  in  need,  he  gives  the  relief  himself.  At  least 
once  every  two  weeks  he  visits  each  poor  family,  and  keeps 
himself  informed  of  any  change  in  their  circumstances. 
The  law  sets  a  minimum  amount  for  relief,  and  any  in- 
come received  by  the  family  is  deducted  from  this  mini- 
mum. By  this  means  it  is  possible  to  keep  the  aid  within 
an  amount  necessary  to  supply  the  bare  necessities  of  life, 
and  thus  discourage  dependence  on  public  assistance. 
As  an  adviser,  or  a  "friendly  visitor,"  the  Armenpfleger 
assists  any  persons  or  families  whose  circumstances  in- 
dicate the  possibility  of  future  dependence.  Thus  he 
finds  work  for  the  unemployed,  provides  medical  aid  for 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHAEITY  283 

the  sick,  advises  the  improvident,  and  reports  the  incor- 
rigible for  prosecution  and  discipline. 

Fourteen  precincts  are  grouped  into  a  district  organi- 
zation. The  reports  of  the  Armenpfleger  are  made  to 
the  overseer  of  the  district  at  regular  fortnightly  meet- 
ings where  all  cases  are  thoroughly  discussed  and  a  min- 
ute book  prepared  for  the  central  committee.  This 
committee  meets  fortnightly,  following  the  district  meet- 
ings. It  has  control  over  the  work  of  the  district  workers, 
reviews  the  district  decisions  in  regard  to  amount,  kind, 
and  duration  of  relief  in  particular  cases,  and  prepares 
measures  of  a  general  nature.  While  relief  to  the  poor 
in  their  own  homes  is  administered  and  decided  by  the 
district  meetings  of  visitors,  subject  to  supervision  and 
review  by  the  central  committee,  it  is  the  latter  authority 
alone,  acting  upon  recommendation  of  the  visitors,  which 
has  the  power  to  order  relief  in  an  institution. 

The  success  of  the  system  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
although  Elberfeld  increased  from  fifty  thousand  in  1852 
to  one  hundred  and  sixty-two  thousand  in  1904,  the  pro- 
portion of  the  population  in  receipt  of  temporary  or 
permanent  relief  diminished  by  over  forty  per  cent. ;  that 
is,  from  8  to  4.7  per  cent.  The  per  capita  cost  also 
diminished.  The  secret  of  its  success  seems  to  be  found 
in  the  efficient  service  secured  by  the  personal  and  inti- 
mate touch  resulting  from  first-hand  contact.  When  each 
relief  agent  has  but  four  or  six  cases  to  look  after,  it  is 
possible  to  individualize  them,  and  to  show  true  neighbor- 
liness.  The  bane  of  much  charitable  effort  has  been  the 
custom  of  treating  the  poor  as  a  homogeneous  class, 
wholly  without  individual  differences.  Besides  this  per- 
sonal element,  the  relief  is  made  constructive,  because  a 
competent  and  kindly  person,  the  Armenpfleger,  acts  as  a 


284  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

connecting  link  between  the  discouraged  or  inefficient 
individual  and  organized  society.  Aid  thus  becomes  more 
than  a  mere  doling  out  of  material  assistance  by  a  formal 
public  relief  bureau;  it  becomes  the  instrumentality  for 
that  regeneration  which  grows  out  of  the  effort  towards 
self-help. 

With  modifications,  this  Elberfeld  system  has  spread 
to  many  other  German  cities.  In  1892,  the  Hamburg 
system  was  reorganized  by  adapting  some  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Elberfeld  system  to  the  special  needs  of  a 
city  of  six  hundred  thousand.  The  original  relief  system 
of  the  city  had  broken  down  under  the  strain  put  upon 
it  by  increased  population.  It  was  obviously  impossible 
for  a  visitor  to  look  after  the  welfare  of  from  twenty  to 
eighty  cases  in  a  thorough  manner.  As  a  consequence, 
relief  had  become  a  matter  of  receiving  applications, 
making  a  more  or  less  careful  examination  at  the  time 
the  aid  was  granted,  and  continuing  the  same  from  year 
to  year  without  renewed  investigation.  Inquiry  showed 
that  about  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  cases  were  not  in  need  of 

• 

the  aid  granted  them.  Under  these  circumstances  the 
visitor  ceased  to  be  a  friend  and  adviser,  and  the  chief 
advantage  of  the  original  system  was  lost. 

In  the  absence  of  records  kept  at  a  central  office,  there 
was  no  means  provided  for  preventing  an  indigent  pauper 
from  receiving  support  the  year  round.  As  reorganized, 
the  system  was  arranged  with  superintendents  at  the 
head  of  each  district.  Applications  for  aid  were  made 
to  these  officials,  who  in  turn  assigned  cases  to  the  visitors 
best  fitted  to  deal  with  them.  This  plan  prevented  over- 
burdening busy  visitors,  and  permitted  the  selection  of 
visitors  who  were  especially  capable  of  treating  certain 
types  of  cases.  In  spite  of  the  appointment  of  this  re- 


CONSTEUCTIVE  CHARITY  285 

sponsible  official  in  charge  of  the  district  work,  adminis- 
tration of  relief  was  really  not  as  strictly  centralized  as 
it  had  been  before,  since  the  districts  were  given  the 
right  of  nomination  for  office  of  superintendents  and  new 
visitors,  as  well  as  considerable  power  to  vote  aid.  An- 
other reform  consisted  of  an  extension  of  the  period  for 
which  relief  was  granted.  Under  the  Elberfeld  system, 
aid  was  given  for  two  weeks.  Under  the  new  system, 
dependents  were  divided  into  several  classes.  The  aged, 
sick,  and  disabled  were  granted  an  allowance  for  six 
months,  younger  persons,  like  widows  with  dependent 
children,  received  aid  for  not  more  than  three  months, 
and  all  other  cases  were  granted  relief  from  one  session 
of  the  council  to  another,  usually  for  a  month  at  a  time. 
Another  distinguishing  mark  of  the  reorganized  Ham- 
burg plan  was  the  insertion  of  circuit  councils,  composed 
of  district  superintendents,  between  the  district  and  the 
central  administrative  board.  The  circuit  council  dis- 
cusses matters  of  interest  to  all  districts,  hears  com- 
plaints against  district  decisions,  and  grants  hospital 
and  institutional  relief. 

The  central  board  is  the  court  of  last  appeal  for  com- 
plaints. It  fixes  the  rules  of  administration,  and  deter- 
mines upon  more  general  remedial  measures  and  agen- 
cies. Finally,  the  business  management  is  the  agency 
which  centralizes  and  organizes  the  work  by  providing  a 
registry  of  information  of  all  cases  from  all  districts, 
thus  making  it  easy  to  detect  duplication  of  relief.  The 
active  corps  of  this  admirable  relief  system  consists  of 
twenty  members  of  the  central  board,  over  one  hundred 
district  chairmen,  about  sixteen  hundred  helpers,  and 
nearly  one  hundred  clerks.  Professor  Henderson  said 
of  this  system  in  1904 : 


286  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

The  distinction  between  the  function  of  the  honor  offices  and 
those  held  by  professional  or  salaried  officials  may  be  briefly 
stated  thus :  the  former  foster  the  spirit  of  the  work ;  the  latter 
have  the  care  of  the  forms;  each  is  supplemented  and  modified 
by  the  other,  so  that  neither  arbitrariness,  disorder,  and  loose- 
ness, on  the  one  hand,  nor,  on  the  other,  stiff  formality  and  ex- 
cessive writing  may  hamper  the  work.  This  aim  has  thus  far 
been  realized  in  a  very  satisfactory  manner.2 

In  fact,  so  well  has  the  system  worked  in  Hamburg, 
that  it  has  been  adopted  with  success  in  several  other 
large  German  cities. 


A  second  system  of  charity,  characteristic  of  modern 
methods  and  forming  a  distinct  contrast  to  the  relief 
methods  of  antiquity  and  medieval  times,  is  the  Charity 
Organization  Society,  a  private  charity.  The  reform 
movement  in  public  charitable  administration,  initiated 
by  the  successful  Hamburg-Elberfeld  system,  spread  to 
England  where,  in  1869,  the  Charity  Organization  So- 
ciety of  London  was  formed.  This  society  aimed  at  or- 
ganizing the  existing  charities  of  the  city,  public  and  pri- 
vate, in  order  that  the  work  of  relief  might  be  carried  on 
in  a  spirit  of  harmonious  cooperation.  It  tried  to  check 
the  evil  of  overlapping  relief,  and  to  repress  and  prevent 
pauperism  by  means  of  investigation,  follow-up  work, 
and  restoration  of  the  destitute  to  independence  by  self- 
help. 

Since  1877,  when  Buffalo  established  the  first  Charity 
Organization  Society  in  the  United  States,  the  system 
has  spread  to  the  chief  cities  of  this  country.  The  first 
step  towards  the  organization  of  private  relief  was  the 

2  Ibid.,  p.  15. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  287 

establishment  of  Relief  Societies  to  take  the  place  of  in- 
discriminate almsgiving  by  individuals.  Then  came  the 
period  of  Associations  for  Improving  the  Condition  of 
the  Poor.  These  associations  attempted  the  permanent 
elevation  of  those  in  need,  but  failing  to  keep  in  view  this 
desirable  end,  degenerated  into  the  practice  of  giving  in- 
discriminate relief.  They  were  not  educational,  provided 
no  adequate  safeguards  against  deception,  and  neglected 
the  supervision  of  recipients  of  aid.  Finally,  comes  the 
Charity  Organization  Movement. 

Four  principles  form  the  fundamental  working-plan 
of  these  private  organizations.  There  must  be  careful 
and  intelligent  investigation  of  all  cases  of  application 
for  aid.  This  inquiry  is  not  solely  to  thwart  impostors, 
or  to  prevent  the  waste  that  comes  from  duplicate  relief : 
it  is  rather  a  social  diagnosis  of  the  factors  involved  in 
the  particular  case,  and  becomes  an  instrument  for  in- 
telligent treatment  of  distress.  Investigation  really  ex- 
pedites relief,  since  it  throws  light  upon  the  complex 
causes  that  have  been  at  work  to  produce  the  misery  of 
each  case.  On -the  basis  of  facts  so  discovered,  it  is  pos- 
sible to  determine  the  kind  of  treatment  most  needed, 
whether  it  be  hospital,  institutional,  personal  advice, 
shelter,  food,  clothing,  or  other  material  relief.  Because 
it  employs  trained  investigators,  the  Charity  Organiza- 
tion Society,  or  Associated  Charities  as  it  is  frequently 
called,  is  able  to  do  more  effective  and  thoroughgoing 
work  than  the  Elberfeld  system,  where  investigation  is 
made  by  untrained  citizen-visitors.  Moreover,  another 
defect  of  the  German  system,  the  practice  of  visitors  giv- 
ing relief  themselves,  is  overcome,  for  the  Charity  Or- 
ganization Society  specifically  avoids  almsgiving  itself, 
seeking  to  obtain  aid  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  needs  of 


288  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

each  case  from  the  appropriate  relief  agency.  It  is  only 
in  emergency  that  the  society  itself  gives  aid. 

The  second  important  principle  is  central  registration 
of  relief.  An  alphabetical  list  of  all  cases  that  have  re- 
ceived aid  from  any  reporting  relief  agency  or  any  co- 
operating social  organization,  as  well  as  any  cases  that 
have  been  investigated  by  its  agents,  is  kept  at  a  cen- 
tral office.  This  card-catalogue,  or  "  confidential  ex- 
change, "  is  the  clearing-house  of  information  about 
needy  persons  in  the  community.  In  large  cities,  this  list 
comprises  tens  of  thousands  of  different  cases.  It  is  a 
repository  of  important  information,  and  by  providing  a 
common  source  of  knowledge,  assists  the  numerous  char- 
itable organizations  of  a  large  city  to  avoid  duplication 
of  aid,  and  overlapping.3 

Specifically  implied  in  the  principle  of  central  regis- 
tration is  the  principle  of  cooperation  between  relief 
agencies.  It  is  here  that  the  society  aims  to  bring  order 
out  of  confusion.  For  every  case  a  plan  is  worked  out, 
and  each  agency  is  assigned  its  particular  division  of  the 
work.  For  example,  an  agreement  as  to  division  of 
work  might  be  reached  whereby  a  relief  society  might 
consent  to  supply  the  necessary  money  or  groceries,  a 
dispensary  furnish  the  needed  medical  attendance,  a 
church-club  furnish  clothes,  and  a  children's  aid  society 
help  provide  temporarily  for  the  children.  In  this  way 
the  various  charitable  resources  of  the  community  are 
united  in  an  effort  to  work  out  the  salvation  of  a  con- 
crete case.  In  so  far  as  harmonious  activity  results,  the 
special  case  treated  is  tided  over  a  temporary  adversity, 
quite  probably  started  on  the  road  to  regain  economic 

s  The  "Social  Service  Exchange"  of  the  New  York  Charity  Organization 
Society  is  used  by  190  cooperating  charitable  agencies. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHAEITY  289 

independence,  and  more  than  this,  becomes  the  means  of 
better  understanding  of  mutual  sociological  effort,  in- 
stead of  a  bone  of  contention  between  competing  chari- 
ties. Last,  but  by  no  means  least,  is  the  effort  made  to 
secure  the  willing  cooperation  of  the  needy  individual 
himself  in  the  plan  for  his  relief  and  restoration.  The 
total  result  of  successful  cooperation  is  to  make  the  re- 
habilitation of  needy  persons  as  smooth  and  natural  a 
process  as  possible. 

But  the  successful  consummation  of  the  special  plan  of 
relief  involves  careful  and  painstaking  after-care  and 
guardianship,  or  ''follow-up  work."  A  destitute  family 
cannot  be  left  to  shift  for  itself  after  simply  giving  it  aid 
and  planning  out  its  problems.  There  must  be  periodic 
visits  by  responsible  individuals  with  a  personal  interest 
in  the  peculiar  problems  of  the  case.  Friendly  visits, 
accompanied  by  sympathetic  but  not  sentimental  advice, 
assist  the  needy  family  to  utilize  its  own  resources  to 
better  advantage,  and  render  far  more  constructive  serv- 
ice than  mere  almsgiving,  which  fails  to  teach  people  to 
invent  methods  of  meeting  difficulties  as  they  arise. 

The  principles  of  relief  just  enunciated  are  carried  out 
by  a  plan  of  work  which  divides  the  city  into  districts, 
each  of  which  is  equipped  with  a  salaried  professional 
agent  and  an  office,  assisted  by  volunteer  workers  or  vis- 
itors of  the  immediate  locality.  Weekly  conferences  of 
the  chairman,  agent,  and  visitors  are  held  to  discuss  cases 
and  decide  upon  a  plan  of  treatment.  By  the  organiza- 
tion of  district  committees,  local  interest  in  the  work  is 
aroused,  and  the  great  city  is  broken  up  into  manageable 
portions  of  the  whole  vast  territory  which,  in  its  aggre- 
gate, is  a  bewildering  problem.  Over  these  local  dis- 
trict committees  and  their  trained  superintendents  or 


290  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

agents,  is  a  general  secretary,  a  well-paid  and  experi- 
enced social  worker,  and  a  board  of  directors.  The  or- 
ganization is  completed  by  a  central  office  with  its  regis- 
tration records. 

The  general  policy  of  the  society  in  dealing  with  an 
application  for  relief  is  to  investigate  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  in  order  to  discover  the  real  need  and 
the  special  resources  available  to  meet  the  situation. 
The  aim  is  always  to  restore  to  ultimate  self-support,  as 
far  as  economic  independence  is  practicable.  To  this 
end,  emphasis  is  laid  upon  securing  employment,  provid- 
ing right  and  useful  educational  training,  and  on  the 
building  up  of  health  and  moral  habits.  If  resources  for 
self-help  are  insufficient  to  supply  a  sound  basis  for  the  re- 
construction of  character  or  economic  rehabilitation,  aid 
is  first  secured  from  those  naturally  concerned.  Rela- 
tives, friends,  former  employers,  church  societies,  and 
labor  or  professional  organizations,  are  appealed  to  for 
help.  When  these  sources  of  aid  are  unavailing,  relief 
is  obtained  from  appropriate  charitable  agencies. 
Whatever  the  case,  it  is  regarded  as  of  utmost  impor- 
tance to  give  adequate  relief  in  each  instance,  rather  than 
superficial  relief  in  many  cases. 

Although,  in  the  beginning,  the  Charity  Organization 
Society  tended  to  avoid  giving  relief  from  its  own  funds, 
spending  all  its  revenues  on  administrative  expenses, 
many  societies  now  provide  aid  from  their  own  funds  for 
cases  that  cannot  be  assisted  through  ordinary  charitable 
channels.  Warner 4  maintained  that  the  society  never 
should  have  a  relief  fund  because  "such  a  fund  at  once 
saps  the  energy  and  ingenuity  of  agents  and  visitors  in 
treating  cases  and  securing  cooperation.'*  Professor 

<  American  Charities,  1908  ed.,  p.  450. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  291 

Devine  has  pointed  out  that  one  reason  why  these  so- 
cieties have  kept  free  from  the  dangers  inherent  in  alms- 
giving, is  because  they  have  not,  as  a  general  thing,  di- 
rectly disbursed  relief  from  a  fund  previously  accumu- 
lated, but  have  had  to  secure  relief,  case  by  case  as  the 
need  arose,  and  were  compelled  constantly  to  justify 
their  decisions  and  their  methods  to  others  in  order  to 
secure  the  necessary  approval  and  cooperation.5  It  is 
the  practice  of  the  New  York  Charity  Organization  So- 
ciety to  send  its  expert  "home  economist"  to  make  a 
careful  budget-study  of  each  case,  considering  the  size  of 
the  family,  the  ages  of  its  members,  and  so  on,  and  upon 
the  basis  of  this  study,  a  scientific  budget  and  dietary  are 
drawn  up.  Relief  funds  to  aid  the  case  may  then  be 
obtained  by  direct  personal  appeal  to  some  individual 
giver  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  needy  family.  The  so- 
ciety thereafter  makes  reports  to  the  donor  of  the  way 
in  which  his  money  is  being  spent. 


The  Hamburg-Elberfeld  system  of  public  relief  as  well 
as  the  Charity  Organization  Society  exemplify  great 
progress  towards  efficiency  in  the  giving  of  relief,  but 
their  work  is  largely  concerned  with  restoring  to  self-sup- 
port and  economic  independence  those  whom  misfortune 
or  wilfumess  has  reduced  to  destitution.  However  con- 
structive the  methods  pursued  by  these  excellent  systems, 
they  do  not  immediately  strike  at  and  eradicate  the 
causes  of  fresh  misery.  For  an  example  of  preventive 
philanthropy  we  must  turn  to  the  great  social  insurance 
schemes  of  modern  industrial  nations.  Social  insurance 
provides  the  minimum  of  prompt  and  adequate  relief  con- 

B  Principles  of  Relief,  p.  351. 


292  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

sistent  with  a  complex  and  elastic  system  for  the  preven- 
tion of  misery  and  poverty  resulting  from  the  occurrence 
of  sickness,  industrial  accident,  unemployment,  and  old 
age. 

It  is  now  quite  generally  recognized  that  under  the  con- 
temporary organization  of  industry  which  has  resulted 
from  the  industrial  revolution,  the  great  masses  of  work- 
ing people  of  industrial  nations  receive  inadequate 
wages,  as  tested  by  the  necessity  of  meeting  the  unescap- 
able  hazards  of  accident,  sickness,  death,  and  old  age.  A 
knowledge  of  this  fact,  as  well  as  a  variety  of  separate 
contributory  influences,  foremost  among  which  was  sev- 
eral years'  experience  with  sick  benefits  among  labor  or- 
ganizations, led  the  German  government  to  formulate  a 
plan  for  three  branches  of  insurance — insurance  against 
sickness,  against  industrial  accident,  and  against  old  age 
and  invalidity.  These  respective  bills  of  the  year  1881, 
became  laws  in  1883,  1884,  and  in  1889.  Under  them, 
millions  of  German  working  people  have  been  insured, 
and  have  received  protection  which  they  could  not  have 
secured  by  individual  assumption  of  the  risks.  Benefits 
granted  under  the  law  are  considered  payments  of  legal 
obligation,  and  not  public  charity.  The  success  of  this 
vast  experiment  seems  to  be  shown  by  its  continuance  as 
a  settled  policy  during  a  period  of  great  industrial  and 
commercial  expansion,  and  by  its  recent  imitation  on  the 
part  of  Germany's  great  competitor,  England.  It  is 
claimed  by  Germans  that  no  small  part  of  their  country's 
remarkable  national  unity  in  the  Great  War  is  due  to 
the  strengthening  effects  of  thirty  years  of  social  insur- 
ance among  the  masses  of  the  people. 

Systems  of  compensation  for  industrial  accident  have 
been  established  practically  throughout  Europe,  in  many 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  293 

British  colonies,  and  in  thirty-five  states  and  territories 
of  the  United  States.  Altogether,  several  score  million 
workmen  in  industrial  and  other  employments  are  af- 
fected. The  German  practice  is  compulsory  insurance  of 
employees*  by  all  employers  in  accident  insurance  asso- 
ciations under  the  supervision  of  an  imperial  insurance 
department.  In  Great  Britain,  compensation  is  compul- 
sory, but  not  insurance  in  special  associations  like  the 
German  method.  In  the  United  States,  there  is  consid- 
erable variety  in  the  arrangements  that  guarantee  pay- 
ment of  compensation  awards.  In  some  states,  em- 
ployers maintain  their  own  insurance  fund,  subject  to  the 
approval  of  an  accident  board;  in  others,  they  insure  in 
a  mutual  association  authorized  to  insure  compensation 
liability;  in  still  others,  they  insure  in  a  state  insurance 
fund  managed  by  the  accident  board  upon  the  same  prin- 
ciples and  under  the  same  general  requirements  as  those 
which  govern  mutual  insurance  associations ;  and  in  yet 
others,  they  insure  in  private  stock  companies  subjected 
to  the  most  rigid  regulation  of  rates  to  be  charged, 
agent  '&  commission  to  be  paid,  and  methods  of  compensa- 
tion used.6 

The  justification  for  systems  of  workmen 's  compensa- 
tion for  industrial  accident,  according  to  which  payment 
is  automatically  made  to  injured  workmen  instead  of 
delayed  payment  after  litigation,  is  found  in  the  fact 
that  the  old  common-law  principles  of  employer's  lia- 
bility are  not  adapted  to  the  conditions  of  modern  indus- 
try. Before  the  time  of  the  factory  system,  the  master 
workman  or  employer  was  in  close  touch  with  the  work- 
man. There  was  a  natural  personal  relation,  because 

«  "Standards  for  Workmen's  Compensation  Laws,"  American  Association 
for  Labor  Legislation,  October,  1916. 


294  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

the  two  did  their  work  in  the  same  room  and  shop.  Out 
of  this  more  or  less  intimate  relation  grew  up  the  com- 
mon-law principle  of  liability  of  an  employer  for  injury 
caused  to  an  employee  when  occupied.  This  principle 
of  liability  secured  sufficient  protection  for  th&  worker 
under  all  ordinary  circumstances,  or  until  the  industrial 
revolution  brought  the  factory  system  of  manufacture. 
Then  the  simple  relation  of  master  and  man  was  sup- 
planted by  a  more  complex  and  much  less  personal  rela- 
tion of  the  corporation  and  stock  company.  The  old 
intimate  ties  vanished,  responsibility  became  divided, 
and  the  employee  was  at  the  mercy  of  a  "soulless"  cor- 
poration. Yet  the  antiquated  employer's  liability  law 
still  remained.  According  to  this  principle,  the  injured 
workman  could  not  recover  damages  unless  it  could  be 
proven  that  the  employer  was  at  fault.  The  courts  rec- 
ognized that  an  employer  must  take  reasonable  care  for 
the  safety  of  his  employees,  and  in  their  effort  to  define 
what  reasonable  meant,  evolved  certain  principles  out 
of  successive  decisions.  These  principles  seriously 
weakened  the  employer's  responsibility,  because  they 
were  based  upon  a  theory  of  personal  negligence  and  re- 
sponsibility, assumptions  not  tenable  under  the  modern 
organization  of  industry,  and  of  little  meaning  when  most 
accidents  result  from  non-personal  causes,  and  when  the 
organization  of  production  divides  responsibility.7 

On  the  assumption  that  industry  should  bear  the  whole 
loss  from  industrial  accident  to  workmen,  just  as  it  has 
always  borne  the  cost  of  accidental  damage  to  machinery 
and  plant  by  the  device  of  passing  on  the  burden  to  so- 
ciety in  the  form  of  a  higher  price  for  the  product,  work- 

i  Seager,  H.  R.,  Social  Insurance,  1910,  pp.  53-67;  and  Rubinow,  I.  M., 
Social  Insurance,  1913,  pp.  86-99. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  295 

men's  compensation  systems  are  not  contributory,  but 
paid  for  by  the  employer.  Hence  it  follows  that,  since 
premium  rates  are  always  a  delicate  measure  of  the  haz- 
ard of  the  occupation,  employers  are  induced  to  adopt 
adequate  contrivances  to  insure  the  safety  of  their  em- 
ployees from  dangerous  machinery  and  other  perils  of 
occupation.  Thus,  in  so  far  as  compensation  systems 
encourage  the  introduction  of  safety  devices,  industrial 
accident  is  prevented,  and  its  consequent  trail  of  misery 
and  poverty  checked  at  the  source.  But  this  is  only  one 
aspect  of  the  preventive  character  of  social  insurance. 

The  benefit  features  of  compensation  systems  exem- 
plify a  combination  of  the  principles  of  immediate  relief 
and  preventive  method  that  is  comparatively  new  in  so- 
cial experience.  After  injury  from  industrial  accident 
has  occurred,  a  period  of  three  days  in  the  German  and 
Swiss  laws,  and  an  interval  of  seven  days  in  the  British 
law,  elapses  before  relief  from  accident  funds  is  given  to 
the  workman.  All  of  these  systems  furnish  medical  as- 
sistance, medicines,  doctor's  and  nurse's  attention,  and 
hospital  treatment  to  the  injured  man.  Under  the  Ger- 
man system,  medical  assistance  is  provided  for  the  first 
thirteen  weeks  from  sickness  insurance  funds,  and  there- 
after from  accident  insurance  funds.  American  states 
provide  " reasonable"  or  ''necessary"  medical  aid  at 
once,  or  after  a  period  of  from  three  to  fourteen  days 
has  elapsed,  depending  upon  the  particular  state  law 
under  consideration.  In  addition  to  medical  assistance, 
practically  all  compensation  systems  pay  the  workmen  a 
percentage  of  his  weekly  or  annual  earnings  during  the 
period  of  disability ;  and  in  case  of  death,  all  pay  a  small 
sum  of  money  to  cover  burial  expenses.  The  German 
workman  receives  payments  up  to  a  maximum  of  two 


296  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

thirds  of  his  annual  earnings.  The  British  workman  re- 
ceives payments  of  one  half  his  wages.8  The  practices 
of  American  states  in  this  respect  differ,  but  the  amount 
paid  an  injured  workman  is  frequently  two  thirds  of  his 
wages,  which  payment  continues  during  total  disability, 
or  for  a  limited  period  of  one  or  two  years  as  the  case 
may  be.  In  the  event  of  partial  disability,  a  certain  per- 
centage is  paid,  sometimes  66%  per  cent,  of  the  difference 
between  his  wages  before  injury  and  his  wage-earning 
capacity  after  injury.  Besides  compensation  for  death 
in  the  form  of  funeral  expenses,  state  laws  provide  com- 
pensation for  dependent  widows,  widowers,  widows  or 
widowers  with  children,  orphaned  children  of  the  victim, 
dependent  parents,  brothers,  sisters,  grandchildren  or 
grandparents,  and  even  alien  non-resident  dependents. 
Such  compensation  is  based  upon  a  certain  percentage 
of  the  original  wage. 

When  one  considers  the  destitution  and  poverty  which 
ordinarily  result  to  the  wife  and  family  of  a  workman 
killed  by  industrial  accident,  it  is  clear  that  the  benefits 
provided  by  compensation  systems  go  a  long  way  towards 
preventing  poverty  that  would  follow  if  accidents  in  oc- 
cupation were  not  compensated.  Moreover,  the  giving 
of  such  timely  aid,  in  the  dignified  form  of  a  regular 
wage-payment,  checks  the  vicious  tendency  of  poverty  to 
cumulate  from  one  generation  to  another  by  establishing 
miserable  conditions  that  handicap  the  lives  of  unborn 
generations. 

Health  insurance  and  unemployment  insurance  are 
parts  of  social  insurance  that  give,  perhaps,  the  greatest 
promise  of  preventive  and  constructive  usefulness.  Ger- 
many since  1883,  and  Great  Britain  since  1911,  have  in- 

sSeager,  op.  cit.,  pp.  67-75;  and  Rubinow,  op.  tit.,  pp.  100-202. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  297 

sured  their  working  classes  against  sickness  by  compul- 
sory contributory  systems. 

The  state  insurance  of  Germany  did  not  destroy  any 
existing  sick-benefit  societies  in  carrying  its  national  plan 
of  insurance  into  effect.  It  recognized  the  local  sick- 
funds,  establishment  funds,  building  trades'  funds, 
miners'  funds,  gild  funds,  mutual  aid  funds,  and  com- 
munal sick-insurance,  and  merely  added  the  principles 
of  state  compulsion,  regulation,  and  control.  In  this 
way  the  existing  social  resources  were  utilized  to  the  full- 
est extent,  and  local  opposition  to  a  national  scheme 
checked.  Two  thirds  of  the  cost  of  the  system  is  borne 
by  the  employee  or  insured  person,  and  one  third  by  the 
employer,  or  one  half  as  much  as  the  employee's  pay- 
ment. In  the  event  of  sickness,  medical  aid  of  an  appro- 
priate sort  is  granted,  and  usually  fifty  per  cent,  of  the 
wages  is  paid  for  periods  of  from  26  to  52  weeks.9  Bur- 
ial money  to  the  sum  of  not  less  than  twenty  nor  more 
than  forty  times  the  average  day's  wages,  is  paid  in  the 
event  of  death  from  sickness.  The  German  system  of 
sickness-insurance  is  compulsory  upon  all  working  peo- 
ple with  an  income  of  less  than  $476  a  year. 

Compulsory  sickness-insurance  under  the  British  Na- 
tional Insurance  Act  of  1911  affects  millions  of  working 
people  whose  income  is  less  than  $800  a  year,  and  many 
more  who  have  insured  voluntarily  under  the  plan.  Un- 
like the  German  and  some  other  continental  systems,  the 
British  system  applies  only  to  cases  of  sickness  apart 
from  industrial  accident.  The  cost  of  insurance  is  met 
by  contributions  from  employer,  employee,  and  state.  A 
sort  of  sliding  scale  of  premium  payments  is  arranged 
for  cases  of  workers  whose  daily  earnings  are  very  small, 

9  Ibid.,  pp.  265,  272. 


298  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

according  to  which  the  dues  diminish  until,  at  a  wage  of 
37^2  cents  a  day  or  less,  the  employee  contributes  noth- 
ing at  all,  the  entire  cost  being  borne  by  the  employer 
and  the  state.  For  most  people,  however,  there  are  uni- 
form dues ;  eight  cents  for  men  and  six  cents  for  women, 
the  employers  contributing  six  cents  and  the  state  four 
cents  in  each  case.  This  means  that  the  workman  pays 
one  quarter  or  even  less  of  the  cost,  the  employer  and 
state  paying  the  balance.  Benefits  consist  of  free  medi- 
cal treatment  and  supplies,  payment  of  $2.44  a  week  for 
men  and  $1.80  a  week  for  women  for  a  period  of  twenty- 
six  weeks,  and  maternity  insurance  benefits  of  $7.50,  in 
addition  to  the  normal  sick-benefits  of  four  weeks.  The 
British  act  provides  no  funeral  benefits  for  death  from 
sickness. 

By  providing  immediate  and  specific  medical  assist- 
ance, sickness-insurance  prevents  the  ill-health  in  after- 
life which  inevitably  follows  upon  neglected  ailments. 
In  this  way  also  poverty  is  prevented,  and  the  span  of 
useful  lives  lengthened.  The  weekly  cash  benefit  makes 
up,  in  some  measure,  for  the  loss  of  income  due  to  sick- 
ness and  absence  from  work.  The  moral  degeneration 
and  listlessness  that  frequently  come  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  unattended  sickness  10  are  prevented  by  sick- 
ness-insurance. Moreover,  the  contributory  feature 
provides  training  in  foresight  and  responsibility  that  is 
educational  for  the  masses  of  people  insured.  A  con- 
sciousness that  one  is  making  provision  for  circum- 
stances in  the  future  cannot  fail  to  give  a  wholesome  feel- 
ing of  safety  and  self-respect. 

10  The  Rochester  Survey  of  the  Metropolitan  Life  Insurance  Company 
showed  that  39  per  cent,  of  cases  of  illness  did  not  have  a  physician  in  attend- 
ance; see  Fisher,  I — "The  Need  for  Health  Insurance,"  Amer.  Labor  Leg. 
Review,  March,  1917,  p.  14. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHAEITY  299 

Unemployment  insurance  is  compulsory  in  Great  Brit- 
ain upon  several  million  workers  in  the  building  trades. 
The  British  system  makes  use  of  the  existing  pro- 
vision for  out-of-work  benefits  among  trade-unions. 
It  strengthens  these  local  funds,  provides  unemployment 
insurance  for  workers  they  do  not  reach,  and  nationalizes 
the  whole  principle  of  out-of-work  benefits  by  connecting 
it  with  the  network  of  public  labor  exchanges  that  cover 
the  country.  Continental  experience  with  public  provi- 
sion for  unemployment  insurance,  especially  in  Ghent, 
has  demonstrated  the  value  of  administering  the  system 
through  local  and  national  labor-unions.  The  govern- 
ment cooperates  with  trade-unions  by  refunding  three 
quarters  of  the  amount  of  benefit  paid  out,  provided  the 
union  pays  a  benefit  at  least  one  third  the  size  of  the  state 
benefit,  and  on  condition  that  the  claims  are  paid  directly 
through  the  public  labor  exchanges.  Up  to  July,  1913, 
one  hundred  and  five  associations,  with  an  aggregate 
enrolment  of  539,775  members,  had  entered  into  these 
arrangements.  A  similar  subsidy  arrangement  is  made 
with  unions  outside  the  trades  which  carry  compulsory 
insurance,  to  encourage  them  to  join  in  the  plan  for  un- 
employment insurance. 

The  benefit  features  of  the  British  system  are  most 
cleverly  arranged  to  provide  assistance  without  encour- 
aging unemployment  or  irregularity  of  employment. 
The  fund  is  raised  by  payments  of  five  cents  each  by 
employer  and  employee,  the  state  contributing  a  sum 
equal  to  one  third  the  aggregate  contribution  of  em- 
ployer and  workman.  Payments  are  made  by  the  em- 
ployer when  the  wage  is  paid.  He  deducts  the  work- 
man's share  and  adds  his  own,  pasting  insurance  stamps 
to  the  correct  amount  in  each  employee's  book.  Benefits 


300  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

consist  of  weekly  payments  to  the  workman,  while  un- 
employed, of  $1.75,  up  to  a  maximum  of  fifteen  weeks  in 
any  twelve  months.  No  benefit  is  paid  for  the  first  week 
of  unemployment,  for  it  is  considered  good  policy  to 
allow  one  week  of  unemployment  in  which  the  workman 
should  seek  a  new  position,  either  on  his  own  initiative  or 
through  the  regular  employment  exchanges.  To  secure 
the  benefit,  a  worker  must  have  been  employed  in  an  in- 
sured trade  for  twenty-six  weeks  during  the  preceding 
five  years,  and  must  have  paid  his  share  of  the  premium 
during  this  period. 

In  order  that  the  system  may  not  work  to  the  disad- 
vantage of  the  steady  workman  who  pays  his  premium 
year  after  year,  and  to  the  advantage  of  the  more  casual 
type  who  is  employed  just  long  enough  to  get  the  unem- 
ployment benefit,  there  is  a  clever  provision  that  after  a 
man  has  paid  in  five  hundred  weekly  contributions,  has 
been  insured  under  the  system  for  at  least  ten  years,  and 
has  reached  the  age  of  sixty,  he  may  then  withdraw  in 
cash  all  that  he  has  paid  in  (less  benefits  paid  to  him), 
with  compound  interest  at  21/2  per  cent.  For  the  steady- 
going  and  trustworthy  workman,  therefore,  the  system 
provides  a  small  savings  fund,  available  after  the  age  of 
sixty.  Besides  this  feature  which  tends  to  encourage 
regular  employment  on  the  part  of  the  workman,  the  plan 
provides  employers  an  inducement  to  keep  their  em- 
ployees continuously  at  work,  week  after  week,  by  allow- 
ing a  claim  for  a  refund  at  the  end  of  the  year  of  one 
third  the  employer's  contribution  on  each  workman  regu- 
larly employed  during  the  year.  These  ingenious  pro- 
visions assist  in  regularizing  employment. 

The  preventive  features  of  the  British  unemployment 
act  are  not  difficult  to  discover.  By  providing  a  regular, 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY 


although  small  benefit  to  the  unemployed  workman,  he  is 
tided  over  the  slack  season  and  kept  from  abject  want, 
without  having  been  paid  enough  to  encourage  indolence. 
In  this  way  the  dismal  period  of  unemployment  is  re- 
lieved of  the  terror  of  starvation,  health  and  hope  are 
maintained,  and  moral  degeneration  averted.  A  feeling 
of  independence  and  self-reliance  is  fostered  by  the 
knowledge  that  provision  against  misfortune  is  being 
built  up  by  one's  own  weekly  contributions.  Thus  does 
unemployment  insurance.  not  only  prevent  poverty  that 
results  from  loss  of  wages  during  an  out-of-work  period, 
but  also  forestalls  the  subtle  moral  degeneration  that 
grows  out  of  shiftlessness  and  discouragement.11 

The  social  insurance  system  is  completed  by  provision 
for  old-age  insurance.  The  need  for  some  sort  of  state 
provision  for  the  aged  members  of  the  working  classes  is 
a  natural  consequence  of  the  modern  industrial  organiza- 
tion of  society.  Prior  to  the  industrial  revolution,  when 
the  population  lived  largely  under  rural  conditions,  it 
was  possible  for  the  aged  to  find  work  to  do  until  well- 
advanced  in  years.  But  in  the  modern  nation  of  cities, 
with  its  crowded  tenement  houses  and  insatiable  demand 
of  industry  for  the  young  and  the  quick  of  movement, 
there  is  little  work  that  an  aged  person  can  find  to  do. 
Since  changing  economic  conditions  have  rendered  the 
dependence  of  old  people  upon  their  descendants  increas- 
ingly precarious,  and  since  old  age  is  a  risk  to  which  all 
are  liable,  but  which  many  never  survive  to  experience, 
the  proper  method  of  safeguarding  old  age  is  by  some 
insurance  plan. 

Germany  established  a  compulsory  old-age  insurance 

n  For  a  discussion  of  unemployment  insurance  see  Rubinow,  op.  cit.,  and 
Amer.  Labor  Leg.  Review,  May,  1914. 


302  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

system  in  1889,  and  by  1910  about  one  quarter  of  her 
people  were  insured.  At  sixteen  years  of  age,  all  wage- 
earners  whose  earnings  aggregate  less  than  $476  a  year 
must  begin  old-age  insurance.  The  cost  is  met  by  equal 
contributions  from  employer  and  employee.  To  this 
amount  the  state  adds  a  subsidy  of  $11.90.  At  seventy 
years  of  age,  the  workman  receives  a  pension  of  from 
$26.18  to  $54.64  a  year.  The  average  pension  has  stead- 
ily risen  until,  in  1913,  it  amounted  to  more  than  ten  cents 
a  day.12  While  the  sum  seems  deplorably  inadequate, 
according  to  American  standards,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  it  goes  farther  in  Germany,  and  in  reality  does 
help  to  lighten  the  burden  of  aged  dependents  upon  their 
children. 

Just  how  solid  a  front  against  the  encroachments  of 
such  misfortunes  as  industrial  accident,  sickness,  unem- 
ployment, and  dependent  old  age,  social  insurance  throws 
about  the  "average"  workman  may  be  shown  if  we  will 
but  follow  an  insured  workman  through  the  various  vicis- 
situdes of  his  life-history. 

It  is  probable  that  the  early  years  of  work  will  be  quite 
free  from  misfortunes  such  as  sickness  and  accident,  but 
since  industrial  depression  is  no  respecter  of  youthful 
and  agile  persons,  our  workman  will  be  likely  to  expe- 
rience the  loss  of  his  job.  We  will  assume  that  he  has 
spent  the  week  in  diligent  search  for  work,  but  without 
avail.  Yet  his  failure  to  find  a  new  job  does  not  consign 
him  to  a  discouraging  period  of  privation,  for  he  begins 
to  draw  unemployment  benefits  after  the  first  week. 
This  payment  continues  for  fifteen  weeks,  if  necessary. 
It  is  practically  certain  that  long  before  the  maximum 
period  is  up,  he  will  have  found  a  new  position.  Indeed, 

12  Rubinow,  op.  tit.,  pp.  358-9. 


CONSTRUCTIVE  CHARITY  303 

experience  has  shown  that  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  the 
beneficiaries  of  unemployment  insurance  secure  work  be- 
fore the  expiration  of  fifteen  weeks.  Thus,  social  insur- 
ance has  tided  him  over  a  crisis  which  the  ordinary  ex- 
perience of  workmen  makes  large  with  possibilities  for 
evil,  and  has  permitted  his  reestablishment  as  a  self- 
supporting  citizen. 

As  the  years  go  by,  sickness  is  sure  to  come,  with  its 
consequent  suffering,  incapacity,  and  loss  of  income.  At 
this  point  sickness-insurance  steps  in  and  provides  medi- 
cal attention  and  supplies  which  the  wage-earner's  small 
savings  and  uncertain  income  could  not  obtain.  More- 
over, the  loss  of  income  due  to  absence  from  work  is 
made  up  in  considerable  measure  by  the  payment  of  a 
weekly  benefit  of  two  thirds  of  his  wages.  When  inva- 
lidity follows,  a  pension  is  paid,  and  the  burden  of  de- 
pendence upon  the  family  made  bearable,  or  at  least  con- 
siderably reduced.  In  cases  of  death,  there  is  this  pen- 
sion for  the  wage-earner's  dependents,  besides  funeral 
money.  Again  our  workman  has  been  tided  over  mis- 
fortune, saved  from  sinking  into  dependence,  and  re- 
stored to  economic  independence,  by  adequate  provision 
for  an  economic  and  moral,  as  well  as  physical  recovery. 

Then,  perhaps,  the  misfortune  of  industrial  accident 
occurs.  There  is  a  class  of  injury  to  the  workman  which 
results  in  complete  or  partial  incapacity  for  a  consider- 
able length  of  time.  Once  more  social  insurance,  this 
time  in  the  form  of  compensation  for  industrial  accident, 
or  perhaps  sickness-insurance,  wards  off  the  worst  physi- 
cal, moral,  and  economic  effects  of  the  misfortune,  by 
providing  medical  attendance  and  two  thirds  of  his 
wages.  The  period  of  privation  and  suffering  is  light- 
ened, permanent  disability,  if  it  occurs,  is  relieved  by  a 


304  SOCIAL  ECONOMY 

pension,  or  in  a  case  of  death,  the  dependents  are 
assisted  by  a  pension  payment  adapted  to  their  peculiai 
needs.  Thus,  for  a  third  time,  social  insurance  has 
.  stepped  in  and  helped  solve  the  problems  of  a  life 's  vicis- 
situdes. 

Finally,  when  our  worker  is  no  longer  adaptable  in 
mind  and  body,  social  insurance  provides  a  modest  an- 
nuity sufficient  to  diminish  the  burden  of  aged  depend- 
ence upon  the  self-supporting  children.  This  small  pen- 
sion is  increased  by  whatever  private  savings  the  work- 
man had  been  able  to  gather  together  in  his  period  of 
greatest  productivity,  and  by  the  fund  he  may  have  accu- 
mulated under  unemployment  insurance  because  of  his 
unusual  regularity  at  work.  Thus  all  the  ordinary  risks 
of  life  that  workmen  are  unable  individually  to  assume, 
because  of  inadequate  wages,  are  covered  by  a  socialized 
form  of  insurance  which  becomes  a  preventer  of  pov- 
erty, as  well  as  a  constructor  of  citizenship. 


PARTIAL  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

This  list  of  references  is  adapted  to  the  use  of  the  student  or 
the  general  reader  who  desires  more  intensive  knowledge  of  the 
historical  developments  outlined  in  the  text. 

PART  I.     THE  GREEK  PERIOD 

Bury,  J.  B. — A  History  of  Greece,  London,  1913. 

Cunningham,  Win. — Western  Civilization  in  Its  Economic  As- 
pects (Ancient  Times),  Cambridge,  1902. 

Gulick,  C.  B. — Life  of  the  Ancient  Greeks,  New  York,  1911. 

Ingram,  J.  K. — A  History  of  Slavery  and  Serfdom,  London,  1895. 

Lock,  C.  S. — Charity  and  Social  Life,  London,  1910. 

Plutarch's  Lives. 

Pettier,  E. — Douris  and  the  Painters  of  Greek  Vases,  London, 
1909. 

Tucker,  T.  G. — Life  in  Ancient  Athens,  London,  1911. 

Zimmern,  A.  E. — The  Greek  Commonwealth,  Oxford,  1911. 

PART  II.     THE  ROMAN  PERIOD 

Abbott,  F.  F. — The  Common  People  of  Ancient  Rome,  New  York, 
1911. 

Buckland,  W.  W.— The  Roman  Law  of  Slavery,  Cambridge,  1908. 

Cunningham,  Wm. — Western  Civilization  in  Its  Economic  As- 
pects. 

Davis,  W.  S. — The  Influence  of  Wealth  in  Imperial  Rome,  New 
York,  1910. 

Dill,  S. — Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  Marcus  Aurelius,  London, 

1905. 

— Roman  Society  in  the  Last  Century  of  the  Western  Empire, 
London,  1899. 

Ferrero,  G. — Greatness  and  Decline  of  Rome,  Empire  Builders, 
transl.  by  A.  E.  Zimmern,  New  York,  1909. 

307 


308  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Greenidge,  A.  H.  J. — History  of  Rome,  Vol.  I,  London,  1905. 
Johnson,  H.  W.— The  Private  Life  of  the  Romans,  1903. 
Lock,  C.  S. — Charity  and  Social  Life. 
Ingram,  J.  K. — A  History  of  Slavery  and  Serfdom. 
Mommsen,  T. — History  of  Rome,  New  York,  1875. 

Plutarch's  Lives. 

•3 

PART  III.     THE  MEDIEVAL  PERIOD 

Ashley,  W.  J. — English  Economic  History,  New  York,  1893. 

Cheney,  E.  P. — An  Introduction  to  the  Industrial  and  Social  His- 
tory of  England,  New  York,  1908. 

Cunningham,  Wm. — The  Growth  of  English  Industry  and  Com- 
merce, Cambridge,  4th  ed.,  1905. 

Gibbins,  H.  de  B. — Industry  in  England,  4th  ed.,  New  York, 

1906. 
— History  of  Commerce  in  Europe,  London,  1909,  2nd  ed. 

Gross,  C.— The  Gild  Merchant,  Oxford,  1890. 

Kramer,  S. — The  English  Craft  Gilds  and  the  Government,  in 
Studies  in  History,  Economics  and  Public  Law,  Columbia 
University,  Vol.  XXIII. 

PART  IV.     GREAT  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS  OF  MODERN  TIMES 

Ashley,  "W.  J. — English  Economic  History. 

Baines,  E. — History  of  Cotton  Manufacture  in  Great  Britain, 
London,  1835. 

Biicher,  C. — Industrial  Evolution,  Wickett  transl.,  New  York, 
1901. 

Callender,  G.  S. — Selections  from  the  Economic  History  of  the 
United  States,  Boston,  1909. 

Cheney,  E.  P. — Industrial  and  Social  History  of  England. 

Cooley,  C.  H. — Social  Organization,  New  York.  1912. 

Cunningham,  Wm. — The  Growth  of  English  Industry  and  Com- 
merce. 
—Outlines  of  English  Industrial  History,  New  York,  1895. 

Fiske,  G.  W.— The  Challenge  of  the  Country,  New  York,  1912. 

Gillette,  J.  M. — Constructive  Rural  Sociology,  New  York,  1916  ed. 

Hobson,  J.  A. — The  Evolution  of  Modern  Capitalism,  London, 
1906,  rev.  ed. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  309 

Lincoln,  J.  T. — The  Factory,  Boston,  1912. 

Macgregor,  D.  H. — The  Evolution  of  Industry,  London  and  New 

York,  1911. 
Ogg,  F.  A. — Social  Progress  in   Contemporary   Europe,   New 

York,  1912. 
Plunkett,  H. — The  Kural  Life  Problem  of  the  United  States,  New 

York,  1911. 
Robinson,  J.  H.  and  Beard,  C. — The  Development  of  Modern 

Europe,  Boston,  1908. 

Taylor,  C. — A  History  of  the  Factory  System. 
Tickner,  F.  W. — Social  and  Industrial  History  of  England,  New 

York,  1915. 
Toynbee,  A. — The  Industrial  Revolution,  London,  1902  ed. 

PART  V — THE   TRANSITION  FROM  REMEDIAL  TO   CONSTRUCTIVE 
CHARITY  AND  PREVENTIVE  PHILANTHROPY. 

Ashley,  J.  W. — English  Economic  History. 

Dawson,  W.  H. — Social  Insurance  in  Germany,  London,  1912. 

Devine,  E.  T.— Principles  of  Relief,  New  York,  1905. 

—The  Practice  of  Charity,  New  York,  1901. 
Ellwood,  C.  A. — Public  Relief  and  Private  Charity  in  England, 

University  of  Missouri  Studies,  1903,  Vol.  II,  No.  2. 
Frankel,  L.  K.  and  Dawson,  M.  M. — Workingmen's  Insurance  in 

Europe,  New  York,  1910. 
Henderson,  C.  R. — Modern  Methods  of  Charity,  New  York,  1904. 

— Industrial  Insurance  in  the  United  States,  Chicago,  1909. 

— Citizens  in  Industry,  New  York,  1914. 
Lee,  J. — Constructive  Philanthropy,  New  York,  1906. 
Lewis,  F.  W. — State  Insurance,  Boston,  1909. 
Lonsdale,  S. — The  English  Poor  Laws,  London,  1901. 
Nicholl,  G. — History  of  the  English  Poor  Law,  London,  1899. 
Parmelee,  M. — Poverty  and  Social  Progress,  New  York,  1916. 
Pigou,  A.  C. — Unemployment,  New  York,  1914. 
Richmond,  M.  E. — Social  Diagnosis,  New  York,  1917. 
Rubinow,  I.  M. — Social  Insurance,  New  York,  1913. 
Schloss,  D.  F. — Insurance  Against  Unemployment,  London,  1909. 
Seager,  H.  R. — Social  Insurance,  New  York,  1910. 
Webb,  S.— The  Prevention  of  Destitution,  London,  1911. 


310  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Webb,  S.  and  B. — The  Break-up  of  the  Poor  Law;  being  Part 
One  of  the  Minority  Eeport  of  the  Poor  Law  Commission, 
London,  1909. 
— The  English  Poor  Law  Policy,  London,  1910. 


INDEX 


Abbott,  F.  F.,  cited,  105,  106,  107; 

quoted,  87,  88,  109. 
Acre,  10,  55,  64. 
Acropolis,  35. 
Aeroplane,  237,  240. 
Agrarian  conditions,  16,  23-4,  46-7, 

54-5,  62-9,  74,  154-69,  269. 
Airship,  219. 
Alfred,  quoted,  207. 
Agriculture,  6,  9,  10,  16,  27,  46,  54, 

65,  73,  77,  102,  185,  204,  229,  239; 

machinery,    165-9;    revolution  in, 

147,  148,  150-69. 
Almsgiving,  264-9,  281. 
Almshouse,  266. 
Appian,    cited,    63,   71,    72;    quoted, 

59. 
Apprentice,  124,  125,   131,  132,  134, 

139,  206,  208,  265-6,  266-7;  stat- 
ute of,  136,  205. 
Aristotle,  8,  12,  38,  64. 
Arkwright,  R.,  175,  176,  178. 
Armenpfteger,  282-3. 
Ashley,  W.  J.,  cited,   121,   122,   131, 

133,   137,    139,    152,    155;    quoted, 

120,    129,    130,    132,    134,    265-6, 

266-7. 
Assemblies,   popular,   boule,   34;    ec- 

clesia,  34;  curiae,  49. 
Associated  charities,  287. 
Athens,  6,  8,  10,  11,  15,  17-22,  25, 

26,  30,  124. 
Automobile,  160,  166,  195,  219,  230, 

237,  239,  240. 
Aviation,  220. 
Ayres,  L.  P.,  254. 

Bain,  A.,  223. 
Baines,  C.,  176. 
Balloon,  219. 


Beard,  C.,  quoted,  174-5. 

Beggars,  62,  156,  265,  268,  269,  281. 

Bell,  A.  G.,  221,  223. 

Berliner,  E.,  221. 

Black  death,  269. 

Blast  furnace,  medieval,  123;  mod- 
ern, 180. 

Boeckh,  22. 

Bottomry,  22. 

Boul6,  34. 

Bourgeoisie,  129. 

British  National  Insurance  Act, 
297. 

Bruce,  P.  A.,  101. 

Bryce,  J.,  234. 

Burroughs,  J.,  247. 

Bushnell,  D.,  228. 

Cairnes,  quoted,  103. 

Callender,  G.  S.,  101,  102,  104. 

Capital  and  capitalism,  15,  16,  21, 
39,  56,  59,  62,  65,  72,  79,  101,  102, 
121,  122,  157,  164,  170,  200,  201, 
205,  213,  215. 

Capitalistic  estates  in  England,  164. 

Capitalistic  slave  estates,  in  Greece, 
17;  in  Rome,  59. 

Carrel,  A.,  223. 

Cartwright,  176,  178. 

Cattle,  6,  55,  64,  157. 

Cavaignac,  20. 

Censorship  of  movies,  255-6. 

Charity  of  gilds,  128;  in  Greece,  32- 
8 ;  medieval,  264-73 ;  modern, 
263-304;  in  Rome,  61,  84-8;  pri- 
vate, in  Greece,  37 ;  in  Middle 
Ages,  264,  266,  267,  268;  in  mod- 
ern times,  286-91;  in  Rome,  84-8. 

Charity  Organization  Society,  286- 
91. 


311 


312 


INDEX 


Cheney,  E.  P.,  cited,  119,  131,  165, 
173,  185,  212;  quoted,  123,  127, 
129. 

Christianity  and  slavery,  95. 

Church,  264,  265,  269,  270,  271. 

Cities,  problem  of,  150-1. 

Class  struggle,  in  England,  152- 
61;  in  Greece,  22,  25;  in  Rome, 
48-60,  67. 

Cleisthenes,  25. 

Climate,  5,  44-5. 

Collegia,  97,  105,  107,  112,  128. 

Colonization,  9,  47,  73,  75. 

Colonus,  98,  99,  100. 

Colosseum,  85. 

Commerce,  10,  13,  24,  33,  43,  45, 
52,  74,  79,  89,  115-19,  128,  151, 
203,  204. 

Communication,  revolution  in,  147, 
149,  215-60. 

Compensation  for  industrial  acci- 
dent, 292-6. 

Competition,  in  Greece,  28,  30;  Mid- 
dle Ages,  130;  modern,  214; 
Rome,  71. 

Cooley,  C.  H.,  218,  223,  248,  249, 
256,  257. 

Constructive  charity,  cooperation, 
228;  follow-up,  289;  investiga- 
tion, 287;  registration,  288. 

Corporation,  202,  213-14. 

Crafts,  28-30,  106,  207,  269. 

Craft  gilds,  120-37,  138,  200. 

Crompton,  S.,  176,  178. 

Crusades,   116-18. 

Cunningham,  W.,  cited,  13,  14,  22, 
27,  -39,  47,  123,  125,  135,  158; 
quoted,  46,  115,  117,  118. 

Daguerre,  L.  J.  M.,  220. 

Davis,  W.  S.,  cited,  81,  84. 

Debt  slavery,  in  Greece,  15,  16,  23; 

in  Rome,  49,  50,  54. 
Defoe,  D.,  quoted,  141-2. 
Democracy,  5,  149,  216,  258. 
Demosthenes,  26. 


Dependents,  in  Greece,  33;  in  Mid- 
dle Ages,  127;  modern,  274;  in 
Rome,  61. 

Detoqueville,  247. 

Devine,  E.  T.,  291. 

Dill,  S.,   105,   107. 

Division  of  labor,  27,  28,  29,  108, 
123. 

Dole-giving,  81,  83,  110,  267. 

Domestic  system,  27,  138-43,  188, 
199,  200. 

Drachma,  11,  18,  19. 

Draco,  23. 

Eaton,  W.  P.,  242. 

Edison,  T.,  cited,  221,  252,  253; 
quoted,  246. 

Education,  252-4. 

Edwards,  B.,  101. 

Elberfeld  system  of  public  poor-re- 
lief, 281-6,  287. 

Ellwood,  C.  A.,  270,  278. 

Emigration,  9,  32,  73,  75. 

Emoluments,  34,  40. 

Enclosures  of  agricultural  land,  152, 
154,  155,  157,  161,  185. 

Endowments  of  charity,  267. 

Employers'  liability,  293-4. 

Factory,  26,  27,  28,  29,  89,  122,  142, 
165,  176;  acts,  208-12,  293;  sys- 
tem, 139,  141,  142,  160,  177-214. 

Farmer,  16,  46,  63,  77,  82,  163,  164, 
169,  185,  230,  238. 

Ferrero,  G.,  cited,  53,  61,  65,  72, 
76;  quoted,  70,  196. 

Fiske,  G.  W.,  166,  239,  241. 

Fisher,  I.,  298. 

Fitch,  J.  A.,  quoted,  195-6 

Food  supply  in  Athens,  15,  17,  24; 
Rome,  47,  60,  62,  73,  82. 

Fowle,  cited,  276. 

Friendly  visiting,  282,  289. 

Froude,  cited,  156. 

Fulton,  R.,  218,  229. 

Gaumont,  M.,  221. 


INDEX 


313 


Gibbins,  H.  de  B.,  cited,  116,  118, 
125,  136,  155,  164,  171,  182,  185, 
273;  quoted,  124,  140,  143,  158, 
182,  202,  207. 

Gilfillan,  S.  C.,  242,  243. 

Gillette,  J.  M.,  169. 

Gilds,  craft,  120-37;  in  Greece,  30; 
journeymen's,  132-3;  medieval, 
118-39;  merchant,  118-19;  yeo- 
men, 132-3. 

Giry,   115. 

Government  control  and  regulation, 
of  factory  conditions,  204,  208- 
14;  of  medieval  gilds,  135-6; 
poor  relief,  269-77;  prices  of 
grain  in  Greece,  22,  33;  in  Rome, 
71,  84. 

Gracchus,  G.,  69,  71,  72,  73,  74,  79; 
colonization  law,  73-4;  corn  law, 

71,  84;  death,  77;  franchise  law, 
76. 

Gracchus,  T.,  62,  64,  65,  66,  67,  72; 

death,  67,  77;  land  law,  64-6,  68, 

72;  quoted,  63. 
Grain    supply    in    Athens,    22;     in 

Rome,     47,     48;     distribution    in 

Athens,  33;  Rome,  71-2,  80. 
Gramophone,  221. 
Graphophone,  221. 
Greece,  3-40,  129,  150,  157,  162,  208. 
Greenidge,  A.  H.  J.,  cited,   68,   71, 

72,  76,  78;  quoted,  62,  66,  73,  79. 
Gross,  C.,  119. 

Gulick,  C.  B.,  28,  32,  33,  37. 

Hamburg-Elberfeld  system  of  poor- 
relief,  281-6,  291. 

Handicraft  system,  27,  120-22, 
139,  142,  200,  203. 

Haney,  L.  H.,  203. 

Hansa  League,  118. 

Hargreaves,  J.,   175,   176. 

Harrison,  quoted  by  Gibbins,  163. 

Health   insurance,   296-8. 

Henderson,  C.  R.,  cited,  281 ;  quoted, 
285-6. 


Henry,  J.,  221. 

Herodotus,  9. 

Heyl,  H.,  221. 

Hobson,    J.    A.,    cited,     177,     179; 

quoted,  180. 

Hospitals,  medieval,  266,  267,  268. 
Husbandry,  convertible,  153. 
Hyatt,  Supt.,  quoted,  233. 

Illingsworth,  T.,  quoted,  142. 

Industry,  14,  24,  26,  27,  31,  59,  73, 
74,  79,  102,  104,  108,  110,  111, 
129,  130,  131,  136,  139,  147,  148, 
160,  170-214,  250. 

Ingram,  J.  K.,  17,  21,  90,  91,  95, 
96,  97,  98,  100,  101,  102. 

Interurban  trolley,  239. 

Inventions,  83,  110,  131;  in  agri- 
culture, 165-9;  in  communication, 
216,  218-23,  252;  manufactur- 
ing industry,  174-7. 

Insurance,  against  industrial  acci- 
dent, 291-6;  health,  296-8; 
against  sickness,  296-8;  social, 
291-304;  against  unemployment, 
299-304. 

Italy,  9,  19,  55,  57,  62,  91,  106; 
physical  aspects,  43-4. 

Ines,  F.  E.,  220. 

Journeymen,  124,  125,  131,  132,  134, 
136,  138;  gilds,  132-3. 

Kay's  shuttle,  174,  176. 
Keiley,  E.  S.,  247. 
Kenetophone,  221,  224. 
Kinematoscope,  221,  243. 
Kramer,  S.,  131,  136,  137. 
Kydd,  S.,  quoted,  186. 

Labor,  29,  31,  60,  102,  105,  112,  130, 
151,  153,  170,  274;  attitude  of 
Greeks  toward,  31,  32;  statute  of, 
269. 

Laissez-faire,  130,  204,  205,  212. 

Land    holding,    in    England,     153- 


314 


65;  in  Greece,  16,  23^;  in 
Rome,  46-7,  54-5,  63-9. 

Langley,  220. 

Lanier,  H.  W.,  230. 

Latifundia,  59,  92. 

Latimer,  cited,  154. 

Laws,  colonization  law  of  Grac- 
chus, 73-4;  corn  law  of  Gracchus, 
71;  factory  acts,  208-12;  Lici- 
nian,  54,  63,  64;  poor-laws, 
271-3;  writing  of,  in  Greece,  23; 
in  Rome,  51-2. 

Licinian  law,  54,  63,  64. 

Linotype,  223. 

Lithography,  220. 

Livy,  cited,  67. 

Lock,  C.  S.,  cited,  33,  80,  84,  263-4; 
quoted,  80-1,  83. 

Locomotive,  217,  219,  222. 

Loom,  139,  142. 

Lonsdale,  S.,  273. 

Macgregor,  D.  H.,  179. 

Machinery,  89,  148,  160,  199,  200, 
202,  206,  208,  212,  239;  agricul- 
tural, 165-9;  textile  manufacture, 
174-82,  188-92. 

Magazine,  223,  224,  227,  245,  246. 

Mail,  218,  237-8. 

Malthus,  T.  R.,  204. 

Manufactures,  in  Greece,  24,  26,  27, 
28;  in  Middle  Ages,  104,  108,  110, 
115,  121,  122,  126,  130,  131,  139, 
140,  143,  147,  151;  in  Rome,  52; 
textile,  170-214. 

Manumission,  in  Greece,  21;  in 
Rome,  94-5. 

Marconi,  G.,  223. 

Market  and  markets,  16,  101,  121, 
138,  141,  158. 

Mason,  G.,  230. 

Master  workman,  28,  124,  125,  131, 
132,  134,  136,  293. 

Maxim,  H.,  220. 

Mechanical  power,  148. 

Metics  of  Athens,  10,  17,  28. 


Middle  Ages,  116,  121,  191,  200,  203; 

264,  265,  267,  268. 
Middle  class,  8,  59,  60,  105,  129. 
Middlemen,  22,  139. 
Mommsen,  T.,  68,  73. 
Monasteries,  264,  265,  266,  268,  269. 
Money,   12-17,  22,   23,   56,   97,    101, 

110,   124. 

More,  T.,  quoted,  154,  156. 
Morse,  S.  F.  B.,  221,  243. 
Motion-pictures,  221,  227-33,  241-4, 

246,  251-6,  258. 
Miinsterberg,  L.,  quoted,  228-9. 

National    Insurance    Act,     British, 

297. 

Navigation  Acts,  171,  205. 
Nearing,  S.,  241. 

Newspaper,  223,  224,  238,  239,  245. 
Nicholl,  C.,  269,  270. 
Nordau,  M.,  256,  257. 

Ogg,    F.    A.,    cited,    152,    159,    171; 

quoted,  165. 

Overseers  of  the  Poor,  272. 
Ovid,  cited,  92. 

Patrician,  48,  49,  53,  54,  55. 

Patten,  S.  N.,  quoted,  280-1. 

Peasant,  16,  46,  50,  59,  65. 

Peloponnesian  war,  5,  33,  37. 

Pensions,  33,  301-2. 

Perkins,  G.  W.,  quoted,  259-60. 

Pericles,  8,  34,  37. 

Philanthropy,  280. 

Phonautograph,  221. 

Phonograph,  221,  234,  243,  244,  246. 

Photography,    220,    224,    227,    228, 

233,  241,  251. 
Pisistratus,  25,  32. 
Plebeian,  48,  49,  51,  53,  54,  62,  96. 
Pliny,  83,  91. 
Plow,      151,      155;      colonial,      153; 

motor,  163,  165;  steam,  157. 
Plutarch,  cited,  16,  34,  38,  73,  93; 

quoted,  33,  63,  74-5,  77. 


INDEX 


315 


Plutocracy,   56-8. 

Polybius,  80. 

Poor,   the,  and  poverty,  in  Greece, 

15,     16,     22,    40;     medieval    and 

modern  times,  156,  206,  2.15,  2fi3, 

277,  296;  in  Rome,  50,  54,  59,  64, 

66,  76,  80-7. 

Poor-law  amendment,  277-8. 
Poor-laiw  of  Elizabeth,  271-8. 
Poor  relief,  268,  270,  271,  273,  274, 

275,    278,    279,    281-6,    287-9-1. 
Population,  9,  15,  19,  51,  59",  61,  62, 

77,    78,    91,    104,    116,    148,    151, 

156,  159,  182-5,  267. 
Popular  government,  215-16. 
Pettier,  E.,  29. 

Preventive   philanthropy,   280-304. 
Prices,  16,  19,  22,  30,  82,  109,  111, 

126. 
Private     charity,     in     Greece,     37; 

medieval,     264,     266-8;     modern, 

286-91;   Rome,  84-8. 
Property,  33,  37,  54,  56,  80,  81,  266. 
Publicani,  56. 
Public    relief    in    Greece,    34,    37; 

modern,  281-6;   Rome,  80-4. 

Railroad  mileage,  237. 

Relief     of     the     poor,     private     in 

Greece,  37;  medieval,  264,  266-8; 

modern,     286-91;      Rome,     80-4; 

public  in  Greece,  34,  37;  modern, 

271-79;      Rome,      80-4;      indoor, 

275,  283;   outdoor,  275,  276,  278. 
Revolution,     in     agriculture,     148, 

150-69;  communication,  147,  149, 

215-60;  industrial,  159,  170-214; 

social,  in  modern  times,  147-9;  in 

Rome,  67. 
Ricardo,  203. 
Roads,  Dr.,  quoted,  239. 
Robinson,  J.  H.,  quoted,  174-5. 
Roman  provinces,  55-6,  60. 
Rome,   42-112,   129,    147,    157,    162, 

208. 
Ross,  E.  A.,  251,  252. 


Rubinow,  L,  294,  296,  297,  302. 

Saint  Thomas  Aquinas,  263. 

St.  Bernard,  263. 

St    Bartholomew,  266. 

St.  Francis,  263. 

Salvioli,  30 

Scheele,  K.  \\f.,  220. 

Scott,  L.,  221. 

Seager,  H.  R.,  294,  296. 

Sellers,  C.,  221. 

Seligman,  E.  R.  A.,  cited,  139,  192; 
quoted,  121. 

Senate,  Roman,  50,  52,  55,  58,  66, 
67. 

Senebier,  J.,  220. 

Serf,  13,  14,  57,  96-101. 

Sesterce,  82,  83,  87,  106. 

Settlement  Act,  274. 

Sheldon,  G.  B.,  219. 

Shaw,  G.  B.,  234. 

Sickness  insurance,  296-8. 

Smith,  A.,  192,  204. 

Slave,  13,  14,  16,  18,  28,  59,  78, 
82,  129,  150,  208;  familia  rustica 
and  familia  urbana,  90;  manu- 
mission, in  Greece,  21;  in  Rome, 
94-5;  numbers,  in  America, 
101-2;  in  Greece,  19-20;  in  Rome, 
89-91;  praedial,  in  Rome,  99; 
prices  of,  in  Greece,  19;  punish- 
ments of,  in  Rome,  93;  sources  of, 
in  America,  101-2;  in  Greece,  17- 
18;  in  Rome,  89-90;  treatment  of, 
in  Greece,  20;  in  Rome,  92-3. 

Slave  estates,  in  Greece,  17;  in 
Rome,  59. 

Slavery,  in  America,  101-4;  de- 
cline of,  96-101;  in  Greece,  17- 
21,  23;  in  Rome,  46,  59,  89-101; 
wage  slavery  in  England,  200, 
206-7,  209. 

Statute  of  Apprentices,  136,  205. 

Statute  of  Labors,  269. 

Strabo,  cited,  90. 

Suetonius,  cited,  80,  83;  quoted,  82. 


316 


INDEX 


Submarine,  218,  219,  228,  229,  231. 
Sumner,  W.  G.,  116. 
Swabian  confederacy,  117. 

Tacitus,  82,  100. 
Tanier,  S.,  221. 
Taylor,  C.,  178,  207. 


Wages,  13,  22,  30,  31,  108,  109,  125, 
136,  164,  185,  200,  202,  206,  207, 
276. 

Wallin,  W.,  quoted,  233. 

Warner,  A.  G.,  290. 

Weaving,  173,  175,  185. 

Webb,  S.  and  B.,  279. 


Taxes,  14,  56,  57,  59,  111,  112,  271,      Wedgwood,  T.,  220. 


272,  282. 


Weedon,  W.  P.,   101. 


Telegraph,  221,  223,  234,  245,  259.       Westermann,  W.  L.,  110. 


Telautography,   223. 

Telephone,  223,  224,  234,  240,  241, 

243,  257,  259. 
Tenements,  61,  188,  227. 
Textile  manufacture,  172-8. 
Thetes,  24,  31. 
Thucydides,  9. 
Toynbee,   A.,    cited    141,    158,    171; 

quoted,   162. 
Tractor,  166. 


Wilcox,  D.  F.,  cited,  249;  quoted, 
250. 

Wilmanns,  cited,  88. 

Wireless  telegraph  and  telephone, 
223,  237,  248,  259. 

Work  test,  275,  276,  278. 

Workhouse,  206,  209,  275,  276,  278. 

Working  class,  131,  215. 

Workmen,  13,  28,  105,  108,  121,  124, 
187  191;  compensation  for  in- 
dustrial accident,  292-6. 


Trade  union,  106. 

Transportation,   149,  216,  218,  250,      Wright,  O.  and  W.,  220. 

251. 
Tribune,  Roman,  50,  53,  54,  69,  75;      Xenophon,  8,  19,  26. 

Consular,  54. 


Trolley  car,  218,  239. 
Tucker,  T.  G.,  quoted,  32. 
Typewriter,  223. 

Ulhom,  cited,  264. 
Unemployment,  229-304. 

Vail,  T.,  234. 
Virgil,  cited,  7. 


Yeomen,  16,  77,  132,  161-5. 
Young,  A.,  cited  158;  quoted,  159. 
Young,  T.,  221. 

Zabrowski,  S.,  19,  21. 

Zeppelin,  219,  235. 

Zimmern,  A.  E.,  cited,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8, 

9,    10,    19,    20,    21,    27,    32,    39; 

quoted,  30. 


c 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara  College  Library 
Santa  Barbara,  California 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


20m-8,'54(6472s4)476 


ft  """••"'         li  iiin  ill ||  inn  in ||  mi  || 


•     ^     .*,.,•     -.- 


A 


